


Musicals bring people together (and some people get fired)

by everythingremainsconnected



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol mention and use, F/F, F/M, First Kisses, Fluff, Gambling, Lydia is aged up and an adult, M/M, Sick Fic, Slice of Life, all your favourite animals return for fic purposes, high school teachers!au, she is a grown up and definitely not a minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 15:16:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10947183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/pseuds/everythingremainsconnected
Summary: Teaching at a new school for the term, Amanda decides to stage a musical. After all, everyone loves musicals... Everyone except frightening Principal Wilson, and her own brother, and the reluctant manual arts head of department. Getting permission to organise the production isn't even the beginning of Amanda's problems. Between downright ridiculous requests from the principal, a grouchy brother and criminal activity, Amanda still has to get kids to remember their lines and not break a prop...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set entirely in Australia and everyone, with the exception of Dirk Gently, is Australian. I just didn't know enough about American schools to do it any justice!

Why Todd insisted on drinking on a school night was beyond him. At the time it was always a good idea, just a couple of beers with a movie to relax before the start of another term of school. Next thing he knew the six-pack was gone and it was midnight. It was the students' first day back and it was always a complete shitfight.

Grade seven kids oscillating between excitement and abject terror was exhausting. Bored grade eights who didn't want to be there and fighting with kids who loved music was tedious. The grade nines and tens were ok, mostly, but a lot of them were busy having mid-teen crises and burgeoning relationship dramas. Todd tried to remember how the hormone-fuelled middle years were a damn trial for everyone and willed himself to be patient, but it wasn't always possible. The senior grades eleven and twelve were generally the least painful in that they actually did the class work and were dedicated to music, but had an unfortunate tendency to take themselves incredibly seriously. He just wanted to scream at them "it's only high school! In a year or less literally none of this will matter!" But it didn't seem appropriate. 

With a heartfelt sigh Todd remembered that his class plan of the day for grade sevens was a prac. _Damn_. Handing out mini glockenspiels to a bunch of thirteen-year-olds was ordinarily a bad idea but with his vague hangover it was going to be an actual disaster. There wasn't time to change the lesson plan and he couldn't afford to be caught out by his head of department on the first day of term. He tried to save that for at least week three. 

Todd’s phone buzzed and he winced before answering the call. "Hey Amanda." 

"Hey Todd! I'm so keen for today!" 

Todd imagined her bouncing around her flat and smiled. "Me too. Are you sure you don't need a ride? You know your place is on the way." 

"I told you, I just got my bike out of the shop. I'm good. Thanks though. You want me to bring in some leftovers for lunch? I had pizza last night and there's way too much left." 

"That would be amazing." 

"Done. See you soon!" Amanda hung up. 

Todd tried not to panic about his sister on her motorbike tearing through town like an escaped demon. She'd make one hell of an impression on the kids. And the parents. Oh god. 

*

Amanda stuffed slices of pizza into a plastic container, putting one in her mouth for breakfast as she went. The container went into her backpack and she checked the bag over again. Pens for days, emergency sugary snacks, her laptop and a hairbrush were all present and correct. The high excitement of the morning meant she couldn’t bring herself to finish the pizza slice and she put it back in the fridge on a shelf. 

Checking the time Amanda grinned. _Showtime._

Pulling on her leather jacket, slinging the backpack over one shoulder and grabbing her helmet, Amanda went out the door with a spring in her step. 

Amanda rode her motorbike toward the local high school, sticking to the speed limit, barely, and making one hell of a noise. She headed for the teachers car park, strategically placed so that one was forced to drive the length of the school before entering. Amanda’s custom mufflers rumbled fiercely as she slowed the engine revs to school-zone speed, driving past teachers and a few students. She was glad of the tinted helmet visor that hid her nervous glances. 

Parking the bike and kicking down the stand, Amanda took off her helmet. She ran a practiced hand through her hair to breathe some life into it and shook the rest of it out from underneath her jacket. Under the allegedly autumnal Australian sun Amanda was already warmer than she liked. She unzipped her jacket and smiled as a breeze blew in. 

Amanda took a deep calming breath, fixed a smile to her face, and headed for the front office with her helmet in her hand. 

*

It wasn’t until the first break of the day that Amanda had a chance to find her brother in the music staff room. It was essentially a cupboard. There was a window, a sink beneath it and fridge crammed in the corner. There were desks against every spare inch of wall and every surface was piled high with papers and junk. 

Amanda looked around and raised her eyebrows. “Cosy.” 

“Amanda!” Todd flinched and spun around, almost spilling his coffee. He relaxed back into his chair. “Don’t scare me like that.” 

“You look like hell.” Amanda grinned. 

“Don’t remind me.” Todd rolled his eyes. “I gave grade sevens glockenspiels.” 

“What in the hell were you thinking?” 

Todd rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know. How were your first classes?” 

Amanda helped herself to a spare chair. “Grade eight, double drama, first day back. They’ve got a lot of passion, I’ll give them that.” 

“That’s generous.” 

“Wanna give me a quick tour of this end of school? I’m supposed to take playground duty tomorrow and I have no idea where anything is.” 

Todd sighed and finished his coffee. “Come on then.” He led his sister out of the building into the chattering crowds of students and turned right. “This is the art block,” Todd gestured to the two-story building ahead. “Kids can sit here,” he pointed to a quad to one side, indeed full of kids, “but not down there.” Stairs went down toward another car park. A couple of students were loitering on the steps and caught sight of Todd. “Nicola, Bethany, how many times do I have to tell you?” Todd asked, hiding a smile. 

“Sorry Mr Brotzman.” The girls chorused. 

“Off you go. Don’t let me see you here again.” Todd attempted to be stern. 

Amanda scratched her face to hide a smile as they turned away. “You are such a pushover. You know they’re not moving.” 

“Those girls are having a tough time. I mouth the lines, the pretend to obey, and I don’t have to give them detention. Everyone wins.” 

“Right.” 

“There’s the dark room, comes under art block even though it’s its own little lump,” Todd said as they went across the permissible quad and passed a brick shed. “The playground duty for this end takes in the quad and the manual arts area,” Todd explained, “so the classrooms right there are all manual arts, and that’s their staffroom.” He pointed to a closed door a few metres ahead. 

“Can you smell smoke? Like cigarettes?” Amanda looked around. 

Todd sighed. “The manual arts teachers smoke like crazy in their staffroom. It’s one of the worst kept secrets around here but even Wilson can’t get them to stop.” 

“Wow.” Amanda recalled her brief meeting with the terrifying Principal Wilson. “I like these guys already.” 

Todd moved away from the door. “Come on, there’s still the L block quad yet and we’re low on time.” 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the manual arts teachers? They’re right there and all.” 

“Maybe some other time.” Todd smiled sickly. “Come on.” 

Amanda shrugged and followed. 

*

The last class of the day was grade sevens and Amanda decided a solid hour of improv was the best use of time. The kids had a blast and Amanda didn’t stop grinning. After the last bell of the day she traipsed back to the staffroom to finish up lesson plans for the rest of the week. It was an hour before she was done and packed up her things. Amanda didn’t miss the reproving glance of a few of the more senior members of staff as she waved on her way out. 

Backpack on and helmet in her hands, Amanda approached her bike with a smile. She loved it more than anything in the world, especially since she’d had the mufflers modified to well and truly announce her arrival. And departure. And gear changes. 

Pulling the helmet over her head Amanda sat down to start the engine. As the bike rumbled beneath her Amanda became aware of another vehicle’s noise and looked around. 

A few car spaces down was a black pickup truck with scrapes and dents along the entire body. Its engine made a throaty noise that couldn’t quite compete with Amanda’s bike but certainly tried nonetheless. She couldn’t see who was in the driver’s seat thanks to the tinted windows. 

With an internal shrug Amanda flicked her visor down and backed her bike out of the space. She drove off, adhering strictly to the school zone speed limit. Idling at the first set of lights after the school, Amanda saw the black pickup pull up beside her. Its old engine revved and Amanda smiled. She revved her bike’s much louder engine in response, looking over at the ute. 

As soon as the light turned green Amanda peeled away from the intersection, easily leaving the ute for dead. She grinned; technically her street-racing days were well behind her but she didn’t keep the bike purely for its fuel economy. 

Arriving home Amanda heated up a microwave meal and sat down in front of a musical, humming along, before pulling out her laptop and checking over the suggested lesson plan from her head of department. 

It was then that inspiration struck; a term-long theatre production would meet assessment needs for her senior kids as well as some of the juniors. Plus, everyone loves a good musical. Amanda smiled at her own cleverness and started googling options. 

*

The third day of school saw Todd erasing the whiteboard before first period. He was totally lost in thought when a noise from the window behind him gave him a heart attack. Todd flinched and turned, expecting to see a viciously out of season magpie, and instead saw a fully-grown man pushing the window open and attempting to climb in. 

“Hi!” The strange man greeted with a disproportionate amount of joy for someone breaking and entering. 

“The hell?” Todd shouted, twitching backward. “What are you doing?” 

The man tumbled through the window to land in a graceless heap. He sprung up quickly, smoothing his tie and straightening his canary yellow jacket. “I’m Dirk Gently, the new English teacher. I was trying to use the room next door but the door locked with me inside and I couldn’t get it open, so I thought I’d try the window.” He grinned hopefully. 

“What the hell?” Todd repeated. Who in their right mind wore a leather jacket in an Australian autumn? Everyone knew autumn was really just summer with sunglasses on. 

“I had to escape out the window?” Dirk tried again. 

Todd stared. Did his tie have tiny ice creams on it? Oh god, the students were going to eat him alive. “Who are you?” 

“Dirk Gently? New English teacher? From England?” Dirk was beginning to wonder if this guy was full quid. “And you are?” 

“Todd. Brotzman. I’m one of the music teachers.” 

“Pleasure to meet you.” Dirk approached and shook Todd’s hand emphatically. The music teacher still looked very confused but Dirk wasn’t to know that this was not unusual. “I don’t suppose you have a key for the room next door?” 

Todd stared some more. “Uh, sort of, there’s a trick to it.” He left the room and went next door with Dirk close behind. He paused to make sure Dirk was watching before pulling the lever handle toward him in the doorframe. He then shoved the handle upward, instead of the conventional downward direction, and the latch clicked open. 

“That was amazing!” Dirk beamed. “Thank you so much, Todd.” 

“Yeah, we try not to close the door on this one,” Todd shrugged off the praise. “You don’t want to get trapped in there with a class.” 

“Definitely not.” 

Todd looked at the new teacher suspiciously. “If you’re an English teacher, what are you doing in a music room?” 

“I’ve got two music classes and the rest are English. As a relief teacher you take what you can get. I’m contracted here for the term though, so that’ll be nice. We can be friends!” 

“We’ll see. I don’t really have much to do with the English department.” Todd smiled uncomfortably. “I’ve got to go and get ready for first period. I’ll see you later.” 

“I hope so. Thanks again for rescuing me, Todd. I really appreciate it.” Dirk smiled widely and even waved a little as Todd turned to leave. 

Todd wondered how long the Brit would last. 

*

Amanda bounded into Todd’s tiny staffroom for the first break of the day and threw herself into one of the chairs. She grinned. “Todd, I’ve had an _idea_.” 

“Oh good,” Todd said drily. He held his coffee close and refused to appear surprised. 

“How would you feel about collaborating on a project?” 

“What kind of project?” 

“A school musical.” 

Todd choked on his coffee. “The hell?” 

“A school musical!” 

“I heard you.” Todd stared. “Oh god.” 

“Come on, it’ll be great.” Amanda nodded. “If you want to head the music, I’ll take care of directing. I was thinking maybe we could get manual arts to give us a hand with props and stage equipment and stuff?” 

“Have you spoken to anyone about this?” 

“Not yet. I thought if I got all the departments on side then it’ll help my case with Wilson.” 

Todd sat back and sighed. “You’re going to need all the help you can get. What are you going to do for money? Musicals cost, and the school’s broke, especially when it comes to the arts.” 

“Everyone loves a fundraiser, right? I was thinking chocolates, maybe a sausage sizzle or something.” Amanda shrugged. 

“Uh-huh. And what musical did you have in mind?” 

“Grease.” 

Todd laughed. “Amanda, there’s huge chunks of that musical that are about teen sex. I can quote most of those lines off by heart. What makes you think they’ll let you do this?” 

“Can you maybe wait til after I’m gone before you start the doom and gloom please?” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you’re like a walking raincloud sometimes.” 

“I’m a practical raincloud,” Todd insisted, “and I’m just not sure how this is going to go for you.” 

“Look, I’m only here for the term. I need something fun to work on with these kids and get them engaged in the content. A disrupted teaching year is only going to hurt them otherwise.” 

Todd sighed and set down his coffee. “Fine, I’ll agree to provisional music support. But you’re dealing directly with Wilson. I don’t want anything to do with her if I can possibly help it.” 

“Deal.” Amanda grinned. “Thanks Todd.” 

*

Amanda made it through til lunch before the cigarette craving hit her. Cutting back had seemed so easy before she was stressed in a new job and a new school. She hadn’t packed any in her bag in an effort to try and keep up the quitting efforts but it was no good. With a free period after lunch Amanda formulated a plan. 

The end of lunch bell rang and Amanda waited until the students had left the playground before she went on her secret mission. She headed straight for the manual arts staffroom with its smoke-clouded windows and tried not to salivate. She knocked on the door. 

A tall guy in his late thirties opened the door. He wore old-fashioned horn rimmed glasses but had a very new white faux hawk and dark beard. Grimy blue coveralls were unbuttoned to show off a once-white singlet beneath and he wore heavy boots. He seemed faintly surprised to see anyone at the door and just stared at her for a long moment. 

“Hi, I’m Amanda Brotzman. I’m the new drama teacher.” 

The guy stared at her for a moment longer before remembering how to talk. “I’m Martin.” 

“Listen, Martin, I’m going to be honest with you. I tried to quit smoking and it did not go well. I don’t have any cigarettes and I don’t have time to leave school grounds to get some. If I can have a smoke and a light I will be forever in your debt.” 

Martin smiled slightly. “Come on in.” He pulled a cigarette packet out of his coveralls pocket and handed it to her, following up with a lighter. 

Amanda immediately lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. At Martin’s gestured invitation she sat on the musty couch in the middle of the staffroom. Martin lounged on the armchair opposite and watched her. 

“You’re a lifesaver.” Amanda sighed happily, reaching across the space to pass the lighter back over. 

Martin just nodded. 

“Have you been at this school long?” 

“A few years.” Martin lit his own cigarette. 

“Is the principal always so intimidating and freakish?” Amanda asked, “because honestly, she seems like a tiny dictator.” 

Martin smiled. “Avoid her if you can. She hates everyone.” 

“I was afraid you’d say that. I want to get a musical together for the kids this term but I need her to sign off on it.” 

“A musical? Really?” 

“Really. It’s great for the kids and school morale in general. They bring people together.” Amanda grinned as she smoked. “It can help get kids out of their shells too. Musicals have the power to heal.” 

“They have the power to make people wish for death.” Martin corrected with a smirk. 

“Somehow I am not surprised that you hate fun.” Amanda quipped. “So, who’s the manual arts head of department?” 

Martin smiled lazily. “You’re lookin’ at him.” 

“Great! How would you feel about maybe lending some support to the musical efforts?” 

“What kind of support?” 

“Well, we’re likely to need some help building sets and props and stuff, maybe some backdrops. I think. It’d be great experience for your kids to work on a big project like this, give them a sense of the real world applications of their skills.” Amanda nodded convincingly. 

Martin took a long drag on his cigarette. “Is that right?” 

“Sure is.” Amanda smiled. She blew a plume of smoke above her head. “Plus it’s a fancy way of getting child labour without being sued.” 

Martin chuckled. “You’ve spoken to Wilson about it?” 

“Not yet. She’s scary, remember?” 

“Oh yeah. I remember.” 

“How is it that you’re allowed to smoke in here?” Amanda asked at last. “I’m not complaining, obviously, but how.” 

“A miracle.” Martin shrugged. 

“Of course.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “So can I get a tentative yes from your department on this? I’m not going to Wilson without a lot in my corner to back me up.” 

“Smart move.” 

“Mama didn’t raise no fool.” Amanda stared at the strange teacher, attempting to figure him out. He really didn’t give much away. 

From behind smudged glasses, bright blue eyes stared right back at her. 

After a long moment Martin sat back and nodded, just once. “Sure. Tentative yes.” 

Amanda grinned. “Awesome! Now I just need to formulate a plan, timeline, budget, organise casting and rights, get permission slips ready. Oh, and I need to convince the scariest woman I’ve seen in my adult life to let me do it all. Christ.” 

“Good luck.” 

“Thanks.” Amanda stubbed out her cigarette on the table’s ashtray. She sighed. “I better go, I’ve got a class next period. I owe you for the cigarette.” 

“And for whatever musical hell is comin’ my way.” 

“It’ll be fun. I promise.” Amanda nodded confidently. “If I can pull it off, anyway.” 

Martin gave her another long look. “Keep me posted.” 

“Will do. Thanks again.” Amanda got to her feet. 

“You ever need another emergency cigarette,” Martin sat back, watching her, “come on by.” 

Amanda smiled and left.


	2. Chapter 2

Pacing outside Wilson’s office, Amanda tried to gather herself and her arguments before being called in. 

Wilson was immediately on the attack. “Amanda, your contract was arranged by the department, with little input from me. Given your relationship with Todd,” 

“He’s my brother,” Amanda remarked. 

“Given your relationship with Todd,” Wilson continued icily, “I’m not sure that I support the decision. What this school needs, is discipline and consistency. Why on earth would I let you put on something so disruptive as a school-wide musical?” 

“Well, a musical would be a really excellent chance for kids to participate in something big and important. It gives them self esteem, builds teamwork abilities, plus the departments get an opportunity-” 

“Musicals are expensive and a waste of time.” 

“I’ve got a spreadsheet here of projected costs, sources of funding and potential for profit if we can manage at least a two week run.” Amanda slid the paperwork across the desk with a slight smile. 

Wilson was not at all thawed by the information. “And what kind of overtime are you expecting to get out of this?” 

“None.” Amanda knew free labour was always an excellent bargaining chip. 

“Really?” Wilson raised frighteningly tweezed brows. She glanced at the speadsheet. “No overtime, no direct cost to the school, and a potential for profit. Any profit would of course go into the whole school’s budget.” 

Amanda grimaced. “Of course.” 

There was an ominous pause. Wilson attempted a smile. 

“Very well. I expect weekly email updates about the project. I’ll need the script on my desk ASAP and I reserve the right to make changes to your production.” 

Amanda sat, stunned. 

“Is there a problem?” 

“No, not at all.” Amanda grinned. “Thank you for your time.” 

Leaving Wilson’s office behind Amanda was incredibly distracted by the immense amount of work she’d just made for herself and didn’t see another teacher approaching. She collided with their shoulder and dropped her stack of paper to the ground in a crumpled tornado 

“I am tremendously sorry!” The other teacher announced, immediately helping Amanda gather her things. “I’m Dirk Gently, easily distracted English teacher. Sorry.” 

Amanda looked at the new teacher and smiled. He had cute hair and a nice, if impractical, leather jacket. “Cool jacket. I’m Amanda Brotzman, drama teacher.” 

“Brotzman? Like Todd Brotzman?” 

“Yeah. He’s my brother.” Amanda saw the flash of relief across Dirk’s face and paused thoughtfully before continuing, “that was totally my fault, I am mega distracted right now.” 

“Oh?” 

“Wilson just gave me the go ahead to put on a school musical!” 

“I love musicals!” Dirk grinned. 

“No way! Do you wanna help?” 

Dirk gaped. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously! I’m going to need so much help. This is huge.” Amanda gathered up the last of her stuff. “Please?” 

“That would be fantastic!” Dirk bounced a little on the balls of his feet. 

Amanda grinned. “You’re fantastic! This is going to be so great. Ok, I’m gonna work on getting the script together and I’ll be emailing teachers in the next few days about our first production meeting.” 

“I look forward to it.” Dirk smiled again before gangling away. 

Amanda took a moment to breathe deeply and grin before heading off to her next class. 

*

The following Friday was the first production meeting. It consisted of Amanda, Todd, two boxes of pizza and a case of beer in Todd’s living room. Amanda was on her fourth beer and sixth slice. She sighed. “What have I done, Todd. This is ridiculous.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” Todd tried, incredibly half-assed. 

“This is my third – third! – schedule. No matter how I do it, there’s a buttload of shit to do every. Single. Week. Almost every day! Look!” Amanda threw paper across the table. She drank deeply. 

Todd looked over the paperwork with his brows knitted in their near-permanent upward position. “Ok, so there’s a lot to do. How many teachers are on board?” 

“You, me, and the new English teacher.” 

“Dirk Gently?” Todd sputtered. “The guy can barely open a door!” 

“Yeah, well, he’s keen and I’m desperate.” 

“No need to go describing your private life.” 

Amanda punched Todd on the arm. “Shut up.” 

“Maybe you could try asking the next all staff meeting? There’s one on Monday.” Todd sipped his drink. 

“You think it’ll work?” 

“It couldn’t hurt.” Todd shrugged. “It’s going to be impossible to do this with three people. And I question Dirk’s ability as a person.” Todd paused. “Did you get the manual arts guys on board?” 

Amanda nodded. “I met their HOD the other day.” 

Todd’s eyes widened uncomfortably. 

“What?” 

“You met the manual arts’ head of department, and pitched him a _musical_ , and he said _yes_?” 

“A tentative yes.” Amanda corrected. “I haven’t decided if I want to bring them into the planning process this early to be honest. I don’t even have a planning process.” She put her head in her hands. “What have I done?” 

“What happened to making opportunities for the kids and shit?” 

“Reality, Todd. Reality happened.” 

“I tried to tell you.” 

“No, you were just being super negative.” Amanda retorted. “Constructive criticism is one thing, your negative Nancy routine is something else. I swear you try and say ‘I told you so’ and I’ll slash your car tyres.” 

“Alright, fine. Let’s try and get some interest at the staff meeting and then we can divvy up the tasks after that. Ok?” 

Amanda took a deep breath. “That’s almost reasonable.” 

“That’s what big brothers are for.” 

Amanda rolled her eyes and finished her beer. 

*

The staff meeting was, essentially, a disaster. A sea of bored faces met Amanda as she rallied her enthusiasm to pitch the musical. Wrapping up her speech, feeling hope die in her heart, Amanda eventually retreated to the large common room to eat her disappointment. 

“Excuse me, Amanda, is it?” 

Amanda turned around, startled, her mouth very full of cake. “Yesh?” she mumbled around the food. 

“Hi, I’m Farah.” 

Hurriedly Amanda swallowed her mouthful. “Nice to meet you.” The woman in front of her was tall and held herself confidently, but there was something soft in her dark eyes. 

“You too. I’d like to help out with your musical.” Farah stated with a smile. 

Amanda stared. “Seriously?” 

“Yes,” Farah frowned a little, “I teach dance and PE, so I’d like to offer my services as a choreographer. If you’re interested. If you have someone already, that’s fine. I should just go.” She shrugged. 

“Oh my god, please! I don’t have a choreographer. If you’re available I’d love to have you on board.” 

Farah smiled. “Sure. I’m available. My wife and I are new to town and it’s kinda hard to crack this crowd.” 

“How new?” 

“Uh, going on a year,” Farah admitted with an awkward little laugh. “The established staff members are not overly welcoming.” 

“The English-drama department have been ok, I guess,” Amanda shrugged, “I can definitely point out the ones that aren’t fans of motorbikes though.” 

“Anyone over fifty?” 

“And a few besides,” Amanda smiled. “Look, I’ve got a bunch of prep work to do for this musical so I’ve got to get going. I’ll email you in a couple of days with production meetings and stuff?” 

“That sounds great.” Farah nodded. 

“Great,” Amanda sighed with relief. “I’ll be in touch.” 

*

On her couch, optimistically rugged up and hoping for a cool autumnal breeze, Amanda looked at her laptop. She sipped her tea thoughtfully. With four people, maybe four point five if she included the reluctant manual arts HOD, it was almost manageable. 

The latest iteration of the musical schedule was as good as it was going to get. Amanda emailed it to Principal Wilson and sat back, a little nervous. It was happening. This musical was happening. 

_Holy shit._

*

The first real production meeting was Amanda, Todd, Dirk and Farah, sitting around the music staff room with cups of coffee on a Wednesday afternoon. Amanda handed out the Wilson-approved itinerary and wriggled in her seat with excitement. 

“Here’s the schedule!” Amanda announced. “Obviously if there are any problems or double ups or you have to swap something out just let me know. Sooner is better than later, obviously.” 

“This is impressive,” Farah looked over the timetable. “And the musical we’re doing?” 

“Well, Wilson vetoed Grease, so we’ve got the significantly more wholesome Sound of Music instead. Not a word, Todd.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Todd was smug. 

Amanda glared. “ _Anyway_ , I’ve put up posters and notified the staff that we’re starting auditions next week. On Monday-” 

“Sorry I’m late.” 

The voice from the doorway startled Amanda. She looked around to see Martin leaning against the doorframe. “No worries, I wasn’t sure you’d be able to make it. Come in.” 

“Wednesdays are busy.” Martin shrugged and took the last seat in the room. He flashed a grin when Amanda handed over a schedule. Todd was deliberately avoiding looking at the newcomer. 

“Ok,” Amanda recovered, looking around the room again, “Todd and Farah, I’ll need you in on auditions with me. Todd, you’ll help me find decent singers and Farah, you’ll be putting the kids through their dance moves. Once we’ve got the cast we start twice-weekly rehearsals the following week. Dirk, I’ll really need you from that point on.” 

“Of course! I’m so excited.” Dirk nodded, looking around. Farah smiled cautiously and hers was the friendliest response. 

“Great. You’ll be supervising kids with me and taking a few groups through lines and scenes when they’re not with Farah for dance or Todd for music.” Amanda smiled. “Martin, I’ll get you started on sets and staging straight up, but if you’ve got some spare time to help out with other supervisions that would be amazing.” 

Martin nodded. “I’ll look it over and let you know.” 

“Thanks.” Amanda smiled around the room. “This is going to be huge and ridiculous and I’m really, really glad I don’t have to do everything by myself.” 

*

Auditions were… an experience. Amanda sat between Farah and Todd at a table in front of the school hall’s stage and called up the students to have their turn. 

Some were just plain bad. Amanda could work with bad; the production would need a crew, and enthusiasm trumped lack of stagehand experience. She took notes of the kids that couldn’t perform for peanuts. 

Some were truly terrible and apparently ignorant of the fact. Admiring their confidence Amanda added them to a second list of less desirable candidates. 

Other kids were good, passably so, and they generally made the shortlist and understudy list. Some of them could even dance a little and Farah smiled encouragingly. 

And every so often there would be a kid with talent so raw and striking that Amanda couldn’t stop the grin that spread across her face. That particular list was the shortest. It always was. 

The auditions came to a close and the debating began. Todd argued for one boy to play the Captain while Farah insisted he’d be useless as he didn’t know his left from his right for stage directions, let alone a dance number. Amanda saw the merits of both arguments but couldn’t commit either way. The candidates for Maria were strong, Todd fighting for one of his grade eleven students while Amanda wasn’t convinced of her enthusiasm for the role. 

“I’m making the call,” Amanda said at last. “Here’s the main cast call back list. You can add two names each for each role that aren’t already there, and that’s it. Done.” 

Farah frowned slightly before adding her picks. Todd rolled his eyes and added a couple of names. 

“Great!” Amanda sat back with a grin. “I’m glad we got that sorted.” 

Todd sighed. “You always get your way.” 

“Especially when I’m the director.” Amanda resisted the urge to poke her tongue out. 

*

A week later Amanda sat at her desk with an alarmingly large pile of paperwork in front of her. There were script licences and set ideas and cast lists jumbled together in some kind of desktop nightmare. 

The cast had been announced and rehearsals would start in earnest in under an hour. Amanda fought the butterflies that swarmed in her belly. She bundled everything in her arms and headed straight for the school hall trying to take deep breaths. 

Dirk was already there, waiting by the door. He saw her and waved, grinning. 

“You’re early,” Amanda smiled as she went inside. Dirk followed. 

“I know, but I was just so excited.” 

Amanda paused, relieved at his enthusiasm. “I thought we could start with a couple of drama games before getting into smaller groups for scenes? What do you think?” 

“I think that sounds excellent. Everyone loves drama games.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Amanda put her things down on the front row of seats. “So, are you new to the area, or just the school?” 

“Oh, new to everything. Trust me.” Dirk nodded conspiratorially. “I grew up somewhere a bit like this, though.” 

“But in England?” 

Dirk nodded. “Lovely country but a bit too _cold_ if you take my meaning.” 

“Not quite?” 

“The English are not known for their warm personalities.” Dirk explained. “And the weather is bloody miserable.” 

“Have you lived through an Australian summer yet?” 

“I’ve only been in the country for about a year and I spent the last summer in Hobart.” 

Amanda laughed. “Hobart? I’m afraid we may have lulled you into a false sense of security with that. There’s a reason the first English invaders wanted to stay there. It was one of the few places they didn’t die of heatstroke in their ridiculous clothes.” 

“Shit, really?” Dirk looked appalled. 

“Really. If you’re still up here for next summer you’re in for one hell of a time.” Amanda laughed at Dirk’s apparent fear. “Actually, if you’re here for next spring you’re in for some fun. Have you been swooped by magpies before?” 

“I’m quite sure that ‘magpies’ belong in the same mythological encyclopaedia as ‘drop bears’.” 

“Remind me to show you a video of a woman riding a bike with an ice cream helmet on her head.” 

Dirk was incredibly confused. “I’m not sure about the connection between those two things?” 

“Magpies are real, Dirk. Very real. And they will destroy you and everyone you love.” Amanda warned. 

The first bunch of kids came through the door in a chattering swarm and Amanda felt a fresh flood of butterflies in her stomach. Farah and Todd arrived behind the students and Amanda broke them up into groups for games. 

As far as herding a bunch of excitable teenagers went, the first rehearsal wasn’t a complete shambles. Martin arrived late to help with supervising students, his silent presence apparently enough to intimidate them into good behaviour. A couple of the older cast members were already singing the songs without lyrics in front of them and Amanda was impressed at their dedication. She felt herself becoming cautiously optimistic about the production. 

Once the rehearsal ended Amanda started to tidy the hall; Wilson had only let them use it on the strict understanding that it be meticulously maintained. Having sent Farah and Dirk home, and eventually her own useless brother, Amanda realised her mistake when it was just her and Martin left straightening up chairs. 

“Thanks so much for coming along,” Amanda tried, “I’m pretty sure those kids are almost as scared of you as they are of Wilson.” 

Martin huffed. “One rumour about a jail sentence is all it takes.” 

“Rumour?” 

“Yeah, rumour.” Martin nodded. “It’s practically urban legend now though.” 

“Let’s just say I’m behind the times,” Amanda said slowly, “what kind of urban legend, exactly?” 

“I used to have my own bikie gang and we sold drugs and beat people up for a livin’.” Martin deadpanned. 

Amanda laughed. “And what was the kernel of truth that sparked this rumour?” 

“I got into it with a student’s dad when I first moved to town. The dad was mouthin’ off in the pub, bein’ a real tool, the usual. I politely asked him to shut his mouth, he offered to take it outside, I took him up on that offer and got a black eye for my trouble. I took off my glasses before he hit me, but still.” Martin shrugged. “He got a broken nose. So I turn up to work on my second day with a shiner from hell and it turns out I teach this guy’s son.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty hard to stop a rumour like that once it gets going.” 

“I can’t wait to hear all three hundred versions of the story over the term.” 

“You’re on contract, right?” 

Amanda nodded. “Just for the term. There was a very brief mention of getting extended but I’m not putting money on it.” 

“No wonder you’re goin’ all out on this thing,” Martin reasoned. He finished with the hall chairs and started picking up discarded scripts. 

“Go big or go home, right?” 

“Right.” Martin smiled. 

Amanda looked around the hall and sighed. “I think that’s about as good as it’s going to get in here. Thanks again for the help.” 

“No worries. Hopefully I can be on time for the next rehearsal.” Martin headed for the door and paused. “Are you right to get to your car?” 

“I’m fine. I’ve got a few things to wrap up here. Thanks though.” Amanda smiled. 

“See you later.” Martin left the hall with the hint of a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

Amanda didn’t slam Wilson’s door behind her but it was _close_. She stormed out of the admin block, bag over one shoulder and her helmet in her hands. Amanda craved a beer and a cigarette and maybe something to break.

The manual arts block wasn’t on her way but Amanda found herself outside it in an attempt to solve at least one of her cravings. She pushed the door open and found Martin and a couple of the other teachers sitting around the coffee table, beers and cigarettes in hand. 

“Woah, where’s the fire?” Martin asked, smiling, before he saw the look in her eyes. “Seriously, what’s up?” 

Amanda slammed the door behind her. “Wilson is so full of _shit_!” 

“That ain’t news.” Martin pointed out. “Beer?” 

“No. Thanks. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m here-” 

“Because you know we’ve got booze.” Martin got a beer out of the Esky beside him and cracked the top. He put the bottle in a stubby cooler and held it out to Amanda. “This is Vogle, Gripps, and Cross.” 

Amanda set her things down before taking the beer, smiling slightly at the other teachers as she sat. “Nice to meet you.” 

“So what’d she do?” Martin asked around the cigarette in his mouth. 

“She has _suggested_ that I might like to remove some Nazi imagery and has questioned whether or not Edelweiss needs to be included? Oh, and has banned us from attempting any kind of on-site fundraising because it could be perceived as a conflict of bloody interest. And she still expects me to turn a profit.” Amanda guzzled her beer with a vengeance. 

“For those of us totally unfamiliar with The Sound of Music, what does that mean, exactly?” Cross asked. 

“Removing any Nazi imagery and Edelweiss depoliticises the entire thing and just cheapens the experience. I won’t do it. Can I beg a cigarette?” Amanda looked to Martin. 

With a nod Martin pulled the battered packet and a lighter from his coveralls and passed them to Amanda. “What’ll happen to you if you don’t do what she says?” 

“Well,” Amanda lit her cigarette with a grateful sigh, “it was only a suggestion. I don’t have to take it on board. She’d have to know how utterly ludicrous it is to take the Nazis out of it? And how much trouble she’d get in for doing so? Right?” 

“Sure.” Vogle nodded. “Whatever you say.” 

Amanda groaned. “Jesus Christ. Why did I think this was a good idea?” 

The other teachers laughed and Amanda ruefully joined them. 

“So what’re you gonna do about the fundraising?” Gripps asked, narrowing his eyes at Amanda. 

“I don’t know.” Amanda said honestly. “I just assumed we’d be selling chocolate for the rest of term. I was kind of looking forward to it, to be honest. Caramello Koalas are my favourite.” 

“I love the pink Freddos.” Gripps confessed. 

“Well, now none of us will have Freddos.” Amanda sighed. “Or a sausage sizzle.” 

Cross was comically outraged. “That’s just un-Australian!” 

“Right?” Amanda said emphatically. 

Gripps smiled at Amanda. “So what you need is some kind of underground chocolate selling racket?” 

“I don’t want to get the kids in trouble.” 

“How about teachers?” Vogle suggested. 

Amanda pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Teachers are absolute sluts for forbidden food. I once nearly got into a fistfight with some self-righteous jerk over a slice of cake that was _clearly_ mine.” 

“You fight people for cake?” Martin looked at Amanda from the corner of his eye. 

“Absolutely. It was damn good cake.” 

Martin suppressed a smile. “Alright, we’ll run your chocolate operation.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You didn’t. We’re offering.” Martin looked at his colleagues. “Right boys?” They all grinned in response. 

“We already have a reputation, we may as well use it for chaotic good.” Cross agreed. 

“Plus we can buy all our favourites first.” Gripps smiled. 

“Thanks,” Amanda felt a little tension leave her body. “I think I might be able to sleep at night.” She sipped her beer. “If we can manage the occasional anarchist sausage sizzle we stand a real chance of breaking even.” 

Vogle sat up straight, his eyes wide. “Get in touch with Bunnings. You can do a weekend sausage sizzle! You’ll make millions!” 

“That’s, not a bad idea.” Amanda smiled. “Thanks, guys.” 

The manual arts teachers, each of them in well-worn coveralls with skin stained from classroom activities, smiled encouragingly. 

“You got those set designs you wanted to work on?” Martin asked. “I’m good at the fabrication, but Gripps is the maths genius who can work out the specs. Vogle’s great at big picture and Cross can figure out the puzzle of it all.” The guys looked chuffed at Martin’s praise. 

“Yeah, I’ve got everything with me these days,” Amanda rolled her eyes. Holding her cigarette between her lips she dug around in her backpack for the paperwork and a notebook. She dumped it all on the low table. 

“Let’s take a look,” Martin half-smiled, pulling the paperwork apart for the other teachers to see. 

The manual arts teachers went over the designs and practicalities, pointing out flaws in Amanda’s initial ideas and finding ways to make them work better. Amanda sat back, feeling another weight lift. She wasn’t entirely sure why Todd had been so sceptical and bordering on afraid of the manual arts department. As far as Amanda could tell, they seemed like staffy dogs: probably capable of incredible property damage but more likely to win one over with their loyalty and easy grins instead. 

Amanda finished her beer and a couple of stress-cigarettes before deciding to call it a day. “My brain is fried, you guys. I need to go home and sleep.” 

“We should pack it up.” Martin agreed. “Can we keep these? We can keep tinkerin’ away over the weekend, see if the sets can’t be tightened up a little more.” 

“Sure, that’d be amazing. Thank you guys so much.” Amanda was glad she wasn’t overly sentimental otherwise she might have started to cry. She packed up the spare paperwork into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. With a smile Amanda picked up her bike helmet. 

“You ride a motorbike?” Gripps asked. 

“Sure do.” Amanda looked at her black and red helmet with a smile. 

Vogle’s eyes lit up. “Can you take me for a ride?” 

“Sure,” Amanda nodded, “my spare helmet should fit you. We’ll check it out sometime?” 

Vogle nodded enthusiastically. Martin looked a little pained. 

“Don’t go killin’ him. I’ve gone to great lengths to make sure that punk reaches adulthood.” Martin looked pointedly at Vogle, who ignored him. 

“Please.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “I used to race, and win. He’ll be fine.” 

“Race?” Cross repeated. 

Amanda tried to be humble. “It wasn’t the most legal kind of racing, but I’m pretty good.” 

“Is your bike red with giant mufflers?” Martin asked astutely. 

“Yes,” Amanda replied slowly, “why do you ask?” 

Martin smiled. “I drive a black ute.” 

“Oh.” Amanda grinned, remembering the pickup truck with the rumbling engine. “You’ll never outpace me in that thing.” 

“Didn’t think so.” 

With one last smile Amanda turned to go. “Thanks again. I owe all of you.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” Martin suggested, getting to his feet. 

“Uh, sure.” 

Martin fell into step with Amanda as they went through the nearly empty school grounds. “Be careful with Wilson,” Martin advised quietly. 

“Look, I’m pretty sure I could take her in a fight, but I really don’t intend to find out.” 

Martin fought to keep from smiling. “She’s got more say than she should in the system. Don’t burn any bridges with her. I’d hate to see you have to leave the area if she poisons the other schools against you.” 

“She could really do that?” 

“Yeah. Don’t underestimate her.” 

Amanda looked sidelong at him, pursing her lips thoughtfully. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

The pair reached the car park and approached Amanda’s sleek bike. She rested her helmet on the handlebar to pull on her jacket. 

“If the boys and I make any serious progress on the sets, I’ll come see you on Monday?” Martin asked. 

“That’d be great, but please don’t feel like you have to. According to the schedule you’ve got a few more weeks to go before the sets are locked in.” 

“It’s a quiet town without much nightlife. We’ll have time to look it all over.” 

Amanda smiled. “Thanks, again. I don’t have classes between first and second breaks on Monday?” 

“See you then.” 

“Alright.” Amanda smiled as Martin turned and headed back into school grounds. 

*

The unusual hush across the English staff room had Amanda looking up from her work interestedly. She saw Martin in the doorway and smiled at his impassive posturing; gathering up her notes and folders Amanda got to her feet and headed straight for him. 

“Does this mean you made progress?” She asked brightly. 

Martin smiled, relieved. “Kind of. Do you have time to go through a few things?” 

“Sure do. Let’s go, my desk doesn’t have the room I need for all this anyway.” Amanda breezed out of the staff room with Martin beside her. 

“You don’t worry much about other people, do you?” 

“Should I?” Amanda shrugged. “I don’t worry about things I can’t change. I just do my best and get on with my own business. Do the English department not like you? Does it have anything to do with that fascinating rumour? I heard a version that includes a prostitution ring, by the way. Very enterprising.” 

Martin gave a short laugh. “It has more to do with the personality clash between me and their – _your_ – HOD. I’m pretty sure he thinks the whole manual arts department are illiterate criminals.” 

“Riggins is definitely a patronising bastard.” 

Reaching the manual arts staff room, Amanda tried to carefully arrange her paperwork on the low central table. She failed utterly and sent reams of paper across the floor. 

“You ever heard of a stapler?” Martin laughed, helping her pile everything back up again. 

“There’s a system,” Amanda said with mock defensiveness. 

“Is it somethin’ like, important shit on top, slightly less important shit at the bottom?” 

“Maybe.” 

Martin laughed again. 

“When you’re done judging me,” Amanda said with a smile, “do you want to show me the plans?” 

Still smiling at her expense, Martin retrieved a stack of notes covered in Post Its and pen scribbles, setting them beside Amanda’s piles. 

“Your system is really quite similar to mine, isn’t it.” 

“Maybe.” Martin grinned. “I think you’ll find mine is improved by the occasional paperclip.” 

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Have you solved the scene change conundrum?” 

“Almost.” With painstaking patience Martin went over the progress and the setbacks he’d uncovered over the weekend, complete with diagrams and annotations. 

“Do we seriously have that much space to work with?” Amanda asked at one point. The measurements were intimidating. 

“Yep. We’ve double-checked. We can get a couple of different scenes above the stage, as long as they’re under the height limit, leaving your key backdrop the same.” 

Amanda stared. Her brain was creaking with the effort of holding all the new information. “Jesus.” 

“Smoke break?” 

“Yes please.” 

Martin handed her the packet first. “How was your weekend?” 

With barely a confused glance, Amanda smiled. “I spent most of it obsessing over the musical. I keep trying to think of bargain ways to make some of this shit work, in light of the fact that we have basically no money.” 

“Come up with anything good?” 

“Winning some kind of massive jackpot?” Amanda sighed. “No, not really. How about you?” 

“Worked on this for a bit,” Martin looked at the plans, “slept in, finished some shit TV series.” 

“Oh I miss sleep ins.” Amanda sighed. “When I’m stressed, sleep and quitting smoking are the first things to go.” 

Martin looked at the lit cigarette in her hand. “I can see that.” 

“Just you wait, I’ll be living off caffeine, nicotine and desperation by the end of term.” 

“Sounds like fun.” 

Amanda laughed. “You bet.”


	4. Chapter 4

As the Captain and Maria, better known around school as Travis and Jennifer, stumbled through another scene, Amanda fought to keep from putting her head in her hands. Farah was right. Travis couldn’t remember where to put his feet, let alone his hands, _let alone_ remember his lines at the same time. If only he wasn’t such a phenomenal singer.

“Miss!” Jennifer shouted, completely breaking character. “If he stands on my foot one more time I’m not going to be able to _walk_ tomorrow!” 

“Yeah, well, maybe if you could remember to not _hit me_ when you’re gesturing everywhere!” Travis retorted, waggling his arms around to make his point. 

“Oh, _now_ you can remember how to move your arms!” Jennifer glared. 

“Enough you two. Let’s take a break.” Amanda suggested with a bright smile. “We’ll pick it up again from the top in ten minutes, ok?” 

The students huffed off the stage in opposite directions. The few kids that comprised the stage crew rolled their eyes at the actors. They loitered in the wings under Todd’s alleged supervision but Amanda could see her brother’s attention had wandered to the man beside her. 

“Dirk, what am I going to do with them?” Amanda asked under her breath. “When they can get their lines the chemistry is right but holy shit, I’ve known cats with better obedience than those two.” 

“Cats are notoriously difficult to train, Amanda.” 

“Exactly.” 

“Oh.” Dirk was thoughtful. “I might be able to help them with the lines. I know a few tricks.” 

Amanda looked at him with fond scepticism. “Ok. A few tricks, huh? Go for it. Please. Anything’s worth a shot. I’ll go through a few scene changes with the crew.” 

Dirk looked immensely proud as he went to find the two leads. Todd watched him leave the hall. Amanda climbed up on stage and gave her brother one hell of a suspiciously mocking look. 

“What?” Todd asked defensively. 

“Oh nothing. Help me out with this set change, we’ve got to get the living room set out to make it the ballroom.” Amanda directed the kids in their furniture shifting endeavours. Running through the set change a few times Amanda left them with Todd, looking for Dirk and the actors. She saw Dirk and Jennifer perched on a picnic table nearby and continued on to find Travis. 

The boy was sitting on the ground, staring at his shoes, and flinched when Amanda approached. 

“Everything alright Travis?” 

“Yeah miss.” 

Amanda sat beside him easily. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Whatever.” 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Amanda smiled. “You said you’re dyslexic, right?” 

“Yeah.” Travis scowled. 

“Sometimes, people who are dyslexic struggle a bit more with knowing their left from right.” Amanda said slowly. “It doesn’t mean you’re dumb. It has more to do with how your brain is wired. Like, my dad’s colourblind, but didn’t know til he was in high school and trying to learn to drive. It didn’t make him any less smart, it just meant that he didn’t know the difference between red and green.” Amanda smiled. “Your brain works fine, it just works differently to Jennifer’s, and she’s not very patient. Not like you are. I’ve seen you working with the younger singers, Travis. You’re really good with them.” 

Travis tried not to look too pleased at the praise. “If you say so miss.” 

“I do. They look up to you, and they like you, coz _you_ never yell.” Amanda pointed out. “Everyone’s good at something, but we can’t be good at everything. Come on. Mr Gently will help you out with some lines and then we’ll try this scene again, alright?” 

Travis nodded, appearing to think on what she’d said. 

An hour later when the kids were traipsing out of the hall, Amanda pulled Dirk aside. 

“What did you do? It’s like magic or something.” Amanda asked quietly. 

“It’s just a few simple memorising techniques.” Dirk shrugged. “Anyone can use them to remember any kind of information. I use it for my pin numbers. And social media passwords.” 

“Seriously.” 

Dirk attempted nonchalance and failed. “I learned at college to try and impress people at parties.” 

“Good to know.” Amanda smiled. “Thanks so much, Dirk. Travis is improving already and I think you actually talked Jennifer off the ledge. You’re a lifesaver.” Glancing toward her brother, Amanda saw the contemplative look on his face. “Guys, I’ve got to get going. I’ve got a bunch of shit to do tonight. Can I trust you to pack up in here?” 

“Yeah, no problem.” Todd smiled awkwardly, waving as Amanda gathered her things and left. Todd tried not to panic and silently cursed his sister’s clumsy matchmaking efforts. 

For a moment Dirk just stood in front of the stage, staring up at Todd. Eventually he figured out what to ask. “Do you need any help up there?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Todd looked around, “if you want to help me reset the stage that’d be great.” 

“Fantastic!” Dirk vaulted onto the stage and joined Todd in moving furniture pieces into the wings. “I can’t wait to see how everything’s going to come together. It’s all so exciting.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Don’t you like musicals?” 

“Not really.” Todd shrugged. “It’s more Amanda’s thing than mine.” 

“It’s good of you to help her out.” 

Todd looked at Dirk oddly. “I guess. Do you have any siblings?” 

“No.” Dirk looked a little sad. “Just me. Always just me.” 

“Do you have any family here, or anything?” 

Dirk shook his head. “No. Just me. And my cat, though she’s not the best conversationalist.” 

“Right,” Todd smiled a little. Of course Dirk had a cat. “I think we’re pretty done in here. I should get going.” 

“Yes of course.” Dirk looked around before following Todd out of the hall. “Do you have any plans tonight?” 

“It’s a Thursday night and this is a small town.” Todd stated. Dirk clearly wasn’t following. “No, I don’t have plans.” 

“Perhaps we could have a drink together? Get to know one another, sort of thing, considering we’ll be working quite closely together for the rest of the term.” 

Todd’s instinct was to be awkward. If they went to the only pub in town, the gossip would travel at approximately the speed of light. Todd really wasn’t feeling up to that level of public scrutiny but he couldn’t bring himself to say no entirely. “Sure. I’ve got beers in the fridge if you want to come by?” 

Dirk’s face lit up. “Fantastic!” 

“Great. Do you want to follow me in your car?” 

“Excellent plan, Todd.” Dirk grinned and they headed for the car park. Still grinning Dirk climbed into his powder blue Fiat and followed Todd’s rusted maroon hatchback. 

Todd’s apartment was in a block of six from the heyday of eighties suburban architecture. It sat amongst newer blocks and nicer houses with the charm and appeal of a bag of McDonald’s rubbish. Dirk found a park easily and met Todd at the bottom of the stairwell. The pair climbed in slightly awkward silence until they got to Todd’s place and he let them inside. 

“Come in,” Todd invited, hanging his bag by the door and leading Dirk down the very short hall into the living room and kitchen. The apartment was small but homely, with a few photographs on the walls and a soft couch backed up against the dining table. The table was covered in paperwork and Todd could have died when he realised he’d left his boxers over the arm of the couch. He quickly threw them into his bedroom and closed the door. 

“You live alone? No girlfriend?” Dirk asked, looking around the space and taking in as many details as possible. The only photos he could see were of Todd and Amanda and older people that must have been their parents. 

“I live alone.” Todd confirmed. He went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. “I hope you like craft beer.” 

“Anything is fine.” Dirk took the bottle with a grateful smile. “Did you grow up here?” 

Todd shook his head. “Have a seat.” He sat at one end of his couch and gestured to the other. 

“Right,” Dirk moved quickly to sit opposite Todd and smiled widely. “So where are you from, if not here? How did you and Amanda come to live in the same town?” 

“We’re from a village about an hour away. We both went to uni down the coast and then came back here for work.” Todd sipped his drink. “How about you?” 

“I’m from England. Did the accent not give me away?” 

Todd swallowed a laugh. “I got that much. How did you end up here?” 

“Are you at all familiar with England?” 

“Everyone drinks pints of ale and Colin Firth is from there?” 

Dirk smiled a little happily. “Yes, Colin Firth _is_ from England, well spotted. England is also a bit full of rainy days and other English people and I felt like a change of scenery. Someplace warm and sunny, I thought, and Australia has a lot of that! Of course, I ended up in Tasmania first.” 

Todd laughed. “Tasmania? Seriously?” 

“It’s so beautiful but so bloody dreary. Far too much like home for my liking.” Dirk smiled ruefully. “I thought I’d try a bit further up. So far this is much nicer.” 

“Were you teaching down there?” 

“For a bit. Among other things.” 

Todd couldn’t quite figure out what Dirk was attempting to mean but the conversation moved on easily. They were eventually interrupted by Todd’s growling stomach. 

“I’m so sorry, I should go.” Dirk immediately got to his feet and stood a little awkwardly in the living room. 

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” The question popped out before Todd could think. He could feel his cheeks getting a little warm. 

Dirk stared. “I’d love to.” 

Todd’s heart started beating again and he remembered how to smile. “Great. I don’t have anything too fancy, is spaghetti ok?” 

“Anything not out of a tin is fine by me.” Dirk smiled. “Although, honestly, I can’t even make food that comes out of a tin.” 

“Wow. That’s, kind of sad.” Todd looked sideways at the self-confessed awful cook. “Come on. You can give me a hand.” 

“Excellent.” 

Dirk was quarantined to a square foot of bench space within five minutes. He perched his skinny bum on the counter top and watched Todd peel vegetables. 

“Sorry again about the tomatoes.” Dirk spied a few flecks of red on the fridge beside him. He wiped it off carefully. “And your ceiling. I can clean that-” 

“No!” Todd said a little sharply. “No. I’ll get it later. It’s fine. Just don’t touch anything else. I can’t afford to replace any appliances in here.” 

“Sorry Todd.” 

Todd sighed a little. How one man could cause so much damage in such a short amount of time – with _fruit_ – was almost impressive. Fortunately the remaining dinner prep was uneventful and it wasn’t long before the sauce was bubbling. The men continued talking easily over beers before serving dinner. Todd looked at his dining table piled way too high with junk and went to sit back on the couch. 

“I just can’t believe you’ve never seen an episode of Pokémon.” Todd stared, his food-laden fork paused in mid-air. 

“I’m sorry for missing some useless American cartoon about,” Dirk paused, his mouth full. “What was it about again?” 

“It’s Japanese, and its – you know what? Hold on.” Todd put his bowl down and turned the TV on. “You’ll just have to watch it.” 

Dirk was captivated within minutes. He finished his food quickly and sat totally still, a pillow clutched to his chest, his wide blue eyes following young Ash setting out on his adventures. Dirk’s reactions were totally unselfconscious, including an audible gasp when Pikachu was hurt. Todd looked over at Dirk and was amused and concerned; his emotional journey was almost endearing. The episode ended and Dirk was practically distraught. 

“Do you have the next one?” Dirk asked quickly, looking at Todd with genuine fear in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I have like, four seasons or something. Hold on.” Todd made the next episode play and found himself trying to watch Dirk more than the TV. 

Episode two played out and Dirk almost wept when Pikachu was healed and he laughed way too hard when Team Rocket were sent blasting off into the sky. 

“I can’t believe I missed this!” Dirk declared. 

“Me either.” Todd smiled before yawning hugely. “As much as I’d love to marathon Pokémon with you, I really need to get some work done before classes tomorrow.” 

“Of course,” Dirk nodded his understanding, “me too. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious. Sorry again about your kitchen.” 

“It’s fine.” Todd shrugged. 

Dirk got to his feet and went to the door, Todd trailing behind. “Maybe we could do this again? And watch more Pokémon?” 

Once again Todd felt his cheeks getting warm. “Yeah. Sure.” 

“Great!” Dirk grinned. “Goodnight Todd.” 

“Goodnight.” Todd opened the door and Dirk stood for a moment, smiling, before patting Todd’s shoulder and striding off into the night. 

Todd couldn’t decide if that was the weirdest date he’d ever had, or the best, or just a really weird night with a weird dude trying to make friends. _Can’t wait to overthink this for the next twelve hours. Who needs sleep anyway_. Todd sighed and went to clean the kitchen. 

*

Watching Farah teach kids how to dance, Amanda developed a newfound respect for dancers and dance teachers everywhere. With almost holy patience Farah worked with Travis extensively, attempting to imbue him with muscle memory and confidence. 

Marshalling kids through the ballroom scene pushed even Farah’s calm to its twitching limits. When the practice was over and the students had definitely gone, Amanda went to her bag and dug out a block of chocolate. 

“This was going to be my emergency ration, but I think you need it.” Amanda handed it over with a smile. 

“Thanks,” Farah tore open the packet and snapped off a piece to eat immediately. “Some of them just really like pushing buttons, don’t they?” 

“And then some.” Amanda agreed. She sat in the front row of seats, looking up at the stage, and smiled when Farah joined her. 

“When they get it, though?” Farah beamed. “Some parts of this job are just so much fun.” 

“Other parts, not so much?” 

“Bureaucracy is the devil’s watchword.” 

Amanda laughed. “Are you sure it isn’t ‘Wilson’?” 

“You didn’t.” Farah gasped mockingly. 

“Oh I did. That woman’s a nightmare.” 

“You have _no_ idea.” Farah’s expression was bleak. “No one can shatter your confidence quite like her.” 

“Why do you stay?” Amanda asked. She accepted a piece of chocolate with a smile. 

“Permanent teaching positions for dance specialties are hard to find, especially in this area.” Farah sighed. “Lydia keeps reminding me that I love what I do, but some days it’s hard to keep that first and foremost in your mind.” 

“Lydia?” 

“My wife,” Farah smiled. “The voice of calm reason. I’m usually the voice of panicky paranoid reason.” 

“Is she a teacher too?” 

Farah shook her head. “Lydia’s a vet. She loves animals so much that if we weren’t living in a rental, we’d be living in a damn menagerie. Speaking of which,” Farah checked her phone, “she’s here to pick me up. It’s date night. Is it alright if I head off?” 

“Yeah, of course!” Amanda smiled. “I should get going anyway.” 

“Come on, I’ll walk you out. Lydia’s near the admin block.” 

“Great,” Amanda picked up her things and walked out of the hall, shutting off lights and locking the door behind her. 

An idling car was waiting right near Amanda’s bike and Farah waved. The car engine cut out and a young woman emerged with a cautious smile. 

“Honey, this is Amanda,” Farah introduced easily, “she’s directing the musical. Amanda, this is my wife Lydia.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” Lydia finally smiled properly, “Farah’s told me so much about you. We’d love to have you over for dinner sometime?” 

“If you want to. No pressure. It’s ok to say no. Or if you’re busy. Whatever.” Farah immediately rambled. She was relatively awful at playing it cool. 

“Dinner sometime sounds great,” Amanda answered, “I’d better get going. It was great to meet you, Lydia.” 

“And you,” Lydia seemed genuinely pleased as she got back into the car. 

The couple watched Amanda speed off on her motorbike. 

“Is she actually nice?” Lydia asked, driving at a much safer speed. 

“She seems to be delightful,” Farah mused, “and she hates Wilson so there’s something in her favour alright. She also gave me a block of chocolate.” 

Lydia grinned. “This is so exciting!” 

“Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, ok?” 

“Come on, Farah,” Lydia pleaded, “let’s give this a chance. We might actually make a friend!” 

Farah sighed. “I don’t know how long she’ll last at the school. Apparently Wilson really has it in for her and she’s not permanent.” 

“Do you think Dirk might be able to help her, too?” 

“I don’t know, honey.” Farah looked out the window. “I don’t know.”


	5. Chapter 5

With significant help from Todd, Dirk, and surprisingly, Martin, Amanda organised an anarchist sausage sizzle at the local Bunnings a couple of weeks later. Amanda and Todd were the first to arrive and attempted to set up a shade gazebo on their own. Quickly Amanda realised that two short people without much musculature didn’t stand a chance against the spring-loaded contraption.

“For goodness’ sake, Todd, can you just hold it still?” Amanda asked for the third time. 

“I _am_! If only you could pull the thing high enough-” 

“Like you could do any better!” 

“I totally could-” 

“ _We’re the same height, Todd._ ” Amanda hissed. 

“You folks need a hand?” 

Amanda looked up, scowling, only to find Martin approaching with a half-smile on his face. He wore a black button down shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy boots, and was carrying a tray of coffees. Vogle followed him in a white tee and black jeans, looking around curiously at the set up. 

“Please.” Amanda said with feeling, trying not to admire Martin’s wardrobe choices. 

Martin approached Todd and gave him the tray of drinks. “You’re in the way.” He hinted. Todd stepped back, gulping. “C’mon Vogle.” The manual arts teachers moved to help Amanda finish constructing the shade cover. 

“Is one of those for me?” Amanda asked hopefully, looking at the coffees. 

“Sure is. They’re all black and no sugar.” Martin took the tray back from Todd with a cold smile and offered it to Amanda. She took a cup gratefully. 

“Is it hot? 

“It’ll definitely be warm, but I can’t guarantee anything more.” 

Amanda sipped it cautiously. “Delicious. You’re the best.” 

“No worries.” Martin helped himself to a cup before giving Vogle the tray. “You got tables? Eskys?” 

Amanda nodded. “Everything’s in Todd’s car.” 

“Vogle, go on and give him a hand.” Martin instructed. Vogle gave Todd the last coffee and followed the grouching man to his car. 

“Is he your personal assistant?” Amanda joked. 

“Vogle just likes being helpful.” Martin shrugged. “He has trouble paying attention so he does best when he’s busy.” 

“How does he go with a classroom full of kids?” 

“Pretty well. Prac days are a dream and he knows enough ways to make theory interesting for himself. If Vogle can stay interested, there’s a hell of a chance all but the worst kids can too.” 

“ADHD?” 

Martin smiled. “That’s the one.” 

“You seem to like him a lot more than any head of department has _ever_ liked me.” 

“I taught Vogle when he was a teenager and then he did his prac here. Now, why on earth would any HOD not like you?” Martin teased. 

Amanda rolled her eyes. “I struggle to deal with stupid people and I _really_ struggle to keep a straight face while doing it. I also have this weird natural loathing of people in positions of authority?” 

“I’d better watch my step.” 

“Nah, you’re not in a position of authority over me.” 

Martin couldn’t tell if Amanda was deliberate in her choice of words or not. He settled for smirking regardless. 

Vogle and Todd reappeared with foldout tables and Eskys and placed the gear under the shade. Working together the team set up their sausage sizzle station, complete with cashbox and Bunnings barbeque. Donning an apron over her jeans and tee, Amanda prepared herself for the day ahead. She finished her coffee and looked at Martin with a smile. 

“So who’s going to cook?” Martin asked, eyeing off the piles of sausages beside the barbeque. 

“I can’t,” Amanda said sheepishly. “I have some, sensory processing issues.” 

“Sensory processing issues?” 

Amanda’s cheeks flushed. “I get overwhelmed by certain things, like the kind of heat in your face when you’re cooking. Sudden changes in temperature do it too, and some fabrics against my skin. Some types of noise.” She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Alright, no chef’s hat for you.” Martin said easily. “How about your brother?” 

“He doesn’t have the same problem I do. He’s just kind of shit at barbequing.” 

“You got another apron?” 

Amanda raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to cook?” 

“I’ve been settin’ things on fire since I was a kid. I think I’m the best candidate we have.” 

“So you’re an arsonist?” 

“Nothing was ever proven.” 

Amanda smiled contemplatively. She handed over an apron and watched Martin as he started cooking the first small lot of food. 

“You got any onions?” Martin asked, leaning back from the heat already. 

“Uh, yeah, hold on.” Amanda dug a container of pre-chopped onions from a bag and handed it over. She didn’t miss the grin Martin flashed at her. 

“Watch out,” Martin warned. He scooped a few bits of onion onto the hotplate and they sizzled and spat. “Breakfast snag?” 

“Breakfast of champions!” Amanda got loaves of bread ready on the assembly line and a box of food prep gloves. She handed the gloves out to everyone before putting some on. 

“So that’s a yes?” 

“That’s a hell yes.” 

“Done.” Martin snapped on a glove and assembled a sausage in bread. “Onions?” 

Amanda nodded and smiled when he handed over the finished breakfast. She held onto it, waiting for it to cool. 

“Hot food’s a problem?” 

“Yeah.” Amanda shrugged. “But it’s easier to deal with than a cold windy day.” 

“What happens to you?” Martin asked while he cooked. 

Amanda carefully bit into the cooling sandwich before she answered. “For a little trigger it’s mega uncomfortable, like nails down a chalkboard but worse. Like, under your skin and inside your head kind of worse. If it’s bad enough I just straight up panic and can’t really function.” 

Martin raised his brows in surprise. “Wow. Ok. Wait, how do you ride a motorbike?” 

“I always have full safety gear on. It keeps the worst of the wind out too.” Amanda grinned. 

“Are you seriously gonna put Vogle on the back of your bike?” Martin looked to his friend who had taken it upon himself to butter every slice of bread. 

“If he wants to, sure. It’s a lot of fun.” 

Martin sighed out of his nose. 

“Are you jealous? Coz I can take _you_ for a ride if you want.” Amanda offered. 

The first customer of the day saved Martin from answering. The stream of customers was steady after that and the four of them worked relatively smoothly. Amanda handled money, Vogle was the food and drink runner, Martin cooked, and Todd tried to stay out of everyone’s way. Dirk arrived just before lunch and Amanda immediately put him on the cash register with a smile. 

“I’m taking a break. Don’t set anything on fire.” Amanda patted Dirk’s shoulder comfortingly and shed her apron. “Who wants coffee?” A sea of mildly desperate cries answered in the affirmative. 

“I’ll give you a hand?” Martin offered. “There should be enough here for a few minutes.” He gestured at the pile of sausages under the barbeque hood. 

“Sure.” Amanda nodded. Martin left his apron behind and walked with her into the hardware store. The café within served coffee though the milk squealed like a pig in a blender. “Word of advice? Stick with black coffee.” She winced. 

“Does the noise hurt?” 

“The noise should hurt anyone with half a clue how to make coffee. But yes,” Amanda rubbed her ears, “it _hurts_.” 

Glancing at Amanda, Martin saw the tension in her stance and the way she clenched her jaw. Fortunately the milk quit screaming and Amanda ordered for them and paid. She shook her head when Martin tried to give her money. 

“Please, a coffee here and there is the least I can do. Besides, you bought them this morning. Fair’s fair.” Amanda picked up the tray of drinks. 

“Let the complicated coffee bartering begin.” Martin said with a smile. “Have I got time for a smoke break?” 

“Be quick.” 

“Yes, boss.” Martin stuck a cigarette in his mouth as soon as they got outside. He took his coffee and wandered off. Amanda couldn’t help but watch his departure. Depositing the coffees at the barbeque stand, Amanda decided to follow him. 

Martin leaned against the side of the building in warm autumnal sun. He smoked lazily, the light glinting off a couple of rings on his hands and in his ears. Hearing Amanda approach Martin looked her way and smiled. 

“Is my break up already?” He asked. 

“You can buy an extra ten minutes if you give me a cigarette.” 

“Deal.” Martin held his cigarette between his lips and got the packet from his jeans pocket. He held it out for Amanda, the lighter tucked inside. 

Amanda took the pack and lit a cigarette. “Thank you.” 

“Any time. Sorry your quit plan didn’t go too well.” 

“It was never gonna work. I get stressed too quickly and this is the easiest coping mechanism.” 

“Today ain’t that stressful.” 

“No, it isn’t.” Amanda smiled. “Literally everything else is.” 

“Why do it?” Martin turned to look at Amanda, admiring her rich brown hair glowing in the sun. “If it’s so stressful, why do it?” 

“It’s so much fun,” Amanda grinned, “isn’t it?” 

Martin returned the smile. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

“I guess.” 

“I’ve never seen The Sound of Music.” 

Amanda feigned a gasp. “No way.” 

“Way.” Martin laughed. “I read the Wikipedia article, that’s almost the same thing right?” 

“Not even close.” Amanda shook her head as she smoked. “Do you want to watch it?” 

“Nope.” Martin laughed again. 

“Come on, you haven’t lived until you hear Edelweiss and feel it crack your heart open.” 

“Sounds painful.” 

Amanda smiled. “My grandparents were Austrian. Cheesy gimmicks aside, my grandma watched it with us every chance she got and Edelweiss always made her cry.” 

After a thoughtful moment Martin sighed. “Fine. I’ll watch it. On one condition.” 

“Mm?” 

“You’ll watch The Expendables.” 

“It’s a deal.” 

“Why are you smilin’ like that?” Martin narrowed his eyes. 

Amanda shrugged. “The Expendables is one of my favourite movies.” She stubbed out her cigarette and put the butt in the bin. “Break’s over.” 

Martin grinned slowly. “Did you just con me?” 

“Sure did.” Amanda smirked and headed back to the barbeque. 

It was one of the more physically demanding days Amanda had done in a while. Her feet ached and she was damn tired of forcing a smile all day. Having sent Dirk on his way after the lunch rush Amanda reluctantly accepted Martin and Vogle’s help to clean up. 

Todd and Amanda ferried the supplies back to his car. “It’s safer without Dirk around, trust me,” he muttered, despite his nervous glances back at the manual arts teachers. “I told you what he did to my kitchen.” 

“You did, but you never finished explaining _why_ he was in your kitchen.” Amanda hinted. 

“It was just dinner.” 

“Sure it was.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “You have a lot of people over to your house for dinner, do you?” 

“It was just dinner and a DVD, Amanda.” 

“Oh, so now there’s a DVD involved?” 

Todd bit his lip to keep from further incriminating himself. 

“This is the last of it, right?” Amanda changed the subject in a rare show of sibling kindness. 

“I think so.” 

“Great, I’ll just go double check we got everything. Hold on.” Amanda went back to the barbeque and saw Martin and Vogle closing up the sunshade. “Is that everything?” 

“Looks like.” Martin nodded. 

“Thanks so much for today, you have no idea how much you guys have helped.” 

“You haven’t even seen the chocolate sales,” Vogle grinned. “When can we go for a ride?” 

“Soon.” Amanda promised him before turning to Martin. “You’ll be at the production meeting on Monday, right?” 

“Yeah. We’ve got a minor issue with some of the rigging mechanisms that need a look over. I don’t have class on Monday afternoon if you want to get a head start.” 

“I can’t remember what week we’re up to in the timetable,” Amanda said ruefully. “I’ll come by your staffroom for lunch?” 

“Lunch.” Martin nodded. “See you Monday.” 

“Bye. Thanks again.” Amanda waved a little before heading back to Todd’s car. 

*

No matter which way Amanda counted it, the cash box was lighter than it should have been. They’d sold out of sausages but the money just didn’t add up. It didn’t make sense. Amanda sat back, thinking. The cash box was out of her sight when she went for coffee, a few bathroom breaks, and packing up at the end of the day. 

Eventually Amanda decided to sleep on it. Her eyes burned from exhaustion and she was seriously concerned she’d never get the smell of cooking meat out of her hair. Hoping that things would look better in the morning, Amanda closed up her apartment and went to bed. Any chance to dwell pleasantly on a potential movie-watching occasion with a certain head of department faded as Amanda worried about the money. 

*

Things did not look better in the morning. The cash box was still light and Amanda couldn’t entertain the thought of one of her colleagues – one of her _friends_ – stealing. She looked at her bank account and wondered if she could squeeze enough out of her savings to fund the gap. 

During the first break of the day Amanda went straight for Todd’s staffroom, cashbox in hand. She helped herself to a cup of coffee and sat by her brother with a sigh. “I need your help, Todd.” 

“What now?” 

“I think there’s money missing from the barbeque.” 

Todd gulped his coffee. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” Amanda stared into her mug. “Someone had to have taken money from it. I just can’t believe it. I mean, was it Dirk, or?” 

“It wasn’t Dirk.” Todd replied immediately. 

“How do you know?” 

Todd shrugged, stammering, “he, he just wouldn’t. He’s not like that.” 

“That’s the thing, I don’t think Martin or Vogle would be any more capable. They’re so honest.” Amanda looked around hopelessly. 

“They have a reputation, Amanda.” 

“A reputation for helping troubled kids and playing loud music. That doesn’t automatically translate to theft.” Amanda refuted. She sighed. “I don’t need this! There’s still so much to do, and I have a meeting with Wilson after this break.” 

The bell went and Amanda groaned. 

“Leave it with me. I’ll double check it.” Todd tried to reassure his sister. 

“Thanks, Todd.” Amanda finished her coffee quickly and rushed to her meeting with Wilson. 

Todd stared at the cash box. His mouth was dry. 

*

“You’re late, Amanda.” Wilson remarked quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” Amanda tried to smile. 

“How was your weekend?” 

Amanda paused, looking at the principal closely. Wilson was notoriously impersonal. “It was fine, thank you.” 

“I heard Bunnings was busy.” 

_Right_. “Sure was. We raised a decent amount of money for the musical.” 

Wilson smiled coldly. “I am concerned about the political overtones of this musical, Amanda. We can’t be seen to be marginalising people. This is a public school.” 

“Nazis have been the bad guys in popular media since the fifties. They’re hardly a marginalised minority.” 

“All the same,” Wilson shuffled some paper in front of her, “there’s a scene here where a flag is torn in half?” 

“Yeah. A literal Nazi flag.” 

“We can’t condone the destruction of flags. The children might get ideas about defacing _other_ flags. It is my recommendation that the scene be removed.” 

Amanda felt her heart thudding in her ears. “Are you serious?” 

“Always.” 

“I’m sorry, I have to respectfully decline your recommendation.” 

Wilson’s razor-thin brows rose and managed to convey considerable condescension. 

“This whole musical is about family coming together and escaping literal Nazis. The happy ending makes no sense if you cut out all the Nazi bits. The flag stays.” 

“Your inability to follow instructions does not look good on your review. Any chance of staying on here after this term is reduced every time you ignore a directive.” Wilson smiled like a dead-eyed shark. 

“Understood. Is there anything else you’d like to discuss? I have a lot on right now.” Amanda fought to keep her voice even. 

“Nothing further. Thank you for your time.” 

Amanda left without trusting herself to speak. 

Storming through the school Amanda found Dirk sitting in the sun outside the library. She was content to just wave and keep walking but Dirk leapt up to walk with her. 

“Amanda, hi! I just wanted to ask-” 

“Now’s not a great time, Dirk,” Amanda interrupted. She wanted to cry from frustration. 

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” Dirk pulled Amanda to a stop beside him, his bright eyes worried. 

“Wilson threatened my _job_.” Amanda said quietly. She wiped her eyes hurriedly. “Every time I don’t do what she says, she’s going to use it against me when my contract is up.” 

“She can’t do that!” 

“Apparently she can.” Amanda sniffed. “I love it here. Apart from her. And every single kid is having the best time with this. How can she not see that?” 

Dirk was flabbergasted. “I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?” 

“I don’t know. I’m staring down the barrel of thirty and I need to take my career seriously, but I just don’t know if I can live with myself if I just, roll over? I gotta go. I’ll see you this afternoon.” Amanda headed off, lost in thought. 

Dirk frowned. He’d have to move faster than he’d planned. 

*

Pushing open the music staffroom door, Amanda went to Todd’s desk. The cashbox wasn’t amongst the upper strata of trash so she checked the drawers. The top one was locked and she surmised the box would probably be in there for safekeeping. She didn’t have time to wait for the end of classes for Todd to get back; taking a couple of paperclips Amanda easily picked the lock, opened the drawer and saw the box inside. 

Amanda pulled it out and found a stash of papers underneath. She wasn’t planning on reading any of them but couldn’t help herself. They were ticket stubs from horse races and papers with maths scribbled across them, as well as lots of exclamation marks and underlining of disturbing sums of money. 

Sitting down, Amanda quickly counted the cashbox again and found it finally added up. She looked at the miraculous amount of money in the box and all Todd’s debt detailed on reams of paper. Amanda felt sick. 

“Amanda?” Todd was in the doorway. The smile fell from his face when he saw her at his desk. “What are you doing?” 

“What is this?” Amanda asked quietly. 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry-” 

“ _What is this?_ ” Amanda pulled a handful of paper from the drawer. “Look at all this! Are you in trouble?” 

“No, of course not, everything’s fine.” 

“Then why did you steal from me?” 

Todd gaped. “I didn’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“The money is here.” Amanda tapped the cashbox. “I counted it half a dozen times and it was short, but now, after leaving it here with you, suddenly it’s what it should be? I left you alone with the box for a few minutes over the weekend. You had the opportunity. And judging by all of this,” Amanda waved the papers in the air, “you have a gambling problem.” 

“It’s not like that.” 

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare. You were happy to let me believe that Martin could’ve done this when it was you!” Amanda threw the paperwork to the ground. “How could you? How could you do this? You know how much this show means to me, and to everyone else involved. How could you?” 

“Amanda, I’m sorry, I just needed one win to get everything back on track-” 

“Stop. Just stop.” Amanda got to her feet. “Don’t bother coming to the meeting tonight. You’re off the musical. I can’t trust you.” 

“Amanda, wait, I was going to fix everything!” 

“Shut up! Everything you’ve ever said was a lie! You stole from me. I would have loaned you what you needed, Mum and Dad would have loaned you money, but no. You stole it.” Amanda pushed past him. “You are such a piece of shit.” 

“Wait, please,” Todd reached for her. 

Amanda pulled away from him, disgusted. “I never want to see you again.” 

*

The bell for lunch rang just as Amanda opened the manual arts staffroom door. The room was empty and Amanda sat on the old couch, clutching the cashbox in her hands. She couldn’t think straight and didn’t know where else to go. 

A minute passed before Martin entered the staffroom, rolling up his coverall sleeves and opening the top buttons. He was surprised to see Amanda sitting there alone and smiled. Seeing the cashbox on her lap Martin raised his eyebrows. “That don’t look like lunch.” 

Amanda tried to smile but mostly just looked like she was trying not to cry. 

“You alright?” 

Biting her bottom lip Amanda shook her head. “I hate today.” She whispered. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Martin sat beside her cautiously. 

“Wilson said if I keep fighting her on musical shit she’ll use every instance against me when my contract is up.” Amanda felt a tear or two escape her eyes. “And my brother is a complete arsehole.” To her intense embarrassment a couple more tears ran down her face. 

“What? What happened?” 

“I should go,” Amanda wiped her eyes and got to her feet, “I can’t do anything useful right now.” 

“No, wait,” Martin stood up to face her. “You can’t walk through school lookin’ like someone just died. It’ll get back to Wilson and she’ll think she’s won.” 

“That bitch.” Amanda sniffed. She rubbed her eyes. 

“Stay for lunch. We’ll look over some musical plans, keep the momentum up,” Martin smiled a little, “and maybe we can plot Wilson’s demise while we’re at it.” 

Amanda tried a tiny smile. “You got any chocolate?” 

“Vogle’s been hoardin’ the Caramello Koalas.” 

“Ok. I’ll stay.” 

The set and rigging plans perpetually covered the low table and Amanda sat on the floor to easily get to them all. Martin sat beside her and reached across for a distant piece of paper, making the fabric of his coveralls brush against Amanda’s bare arm. She flinched away. 

“Sorry, are you ok?” Martin asked immediately. 

Amanda paused for a moment, processing the sensation on her arm. “I don’t know. Hold still for a sec.” Hesitantly Amanda put her hand on the rough fabric of Martin’s sleeve, rolled up to his elbows. After a second she realised there was no pain or overload. Running her hand across the fabric and up to Martin’s shoulder to make sure, Amanda sighed with relief. “It’s fine.” She felt her cheeks get warm and pulled away. 

Martin sat back, relieved. “What’s the worst fabric?” 

“Velvet.” Amanda shuddered. “On so many levels. To stroke against it is like shards of glass against my skin. It’s not all bad though, like some sensory input is awful, but then some of it feels so incredible. Like bamboo sheets are just _amazing_.” 

“They make sheets out of bamboo?” 

“And clothes. The clothes are almost as good but it’s kind of distracting.” 

Martin chuckled. “Imagine Vogle getting distracted by his clothes.” 

“It’s not for everyone,” Amanda agreed with a smile. “I seem to remember someone promising Caramello Koalas?” 

“You gonna have chocolate for lunch?” 

Amanda went to reply but was interrupted by Cross and Gripps barrelling into the room with Vogle close behind. 

“I’m starving!” Cross announced, heading straight for the tiny fridge. He pulled out boxes of cold pizza and put them on the couch behind Amanda. “What’s all this?” 

“The rigging problem for the ballroom scene.” Martin explained. He picked up a pizza box and offered Amanda a slice. She took one with a smile. 

“Again?” Cross sighed, sitting opposite. 

“I think you mean ‘still’. It’s never worked right.” Martin pointed out. 

The group spent the rest of lunch with pencils and pizza in hand, and occasionally a cigarette, drawing across the plans and debating the mechanics. Amanda couldn’t follow a lot of it but found the ordinariness of it awesomely distracting. Martin made good on the promise of chocolate and it wasn’t long before Amanda was surrounded by empty wrappers. 

“You ready for the rest of the afternoon?” Martin asked, his voice low. The others had gone off on a design tangent and he’d seen Amanda’s attention wander. 

“Not really. What choice is there?” 

“Not much.” 

“Great.” Amanda rolled her eyes with a smile. “Sometimes I miss my shitty jobs where I could just abandon my shift and not have to worry about consequences.” 

Martin smiled. “I know the feeling. I can bring fresh pizzas to tonight’s production meeting?” 

“You want to come along?” 

“There’s always somethin’ to do, right?” 

Amanda nodded. “Right. I kicked Todd off the musical so I’m going to need some extra help.” 

“Shit, why?” 

“He tried to steal from the musical funds.” 

A lull in conversation meant all the teachers heard Amanda. They stared at her. 

“You’re kidding.” Martin growled. 

“I wish I was.” Amanda sniffed again. “I caught him, and he paid it back, but still. I kicked him off. I can’t even think about it without wanting to spew, let alone see him.” 

“What a jerk.” Cross offered. The others nodded in agreement. 

“We’ll help where we can. With supervising and stuff.” Gripps smiled a little. 

Amanda returned the smile. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.” She leaned back with a sigh. “I have to re-do the entire schedule, again, but if you guys are really keen to help? I’ll put you on it.” 

“Do it.” Martin nodded. “What’re you gonna do for music?” 

“Todd and I played in the same band when we were teenagers. I’m not as good as him, but I can fake it til I make it. And I won’t be stealing from the musical, so there’s that.” 

“Shit, I’ve got a prac next class!” Vogle got to his feet and ran out the door, waving as he went. 

“Same,” Amanda sighed, standing up with a sigh. “Thanks for lunch, guys. I’ll see you at the meeting tonight?” She asked Martin. 

“Yeah,” Martin looked up with a smile. “See you then.” 

With a last wave Amanda left the manual arts staffroom, cashbox under her arm. 

Amanda’s last classes were delightful. The kids were the dream combination of interested and focussed and with only a few minor diversions the prac was a blast. It helped that two of the students were Von Trapp children in the musical and had found a new level of dedication. 

There was a couple of hours between the last classes and the production meeting and Amanda frantically reworked the schedule without Todd. With a sigh she farewelled any spare time for the rest of the term. 

Arriving at the hall first, Amanda arranged copies of the new schedule on the table in front of the stage. Her footsteps echoed as she examined the set, trying to imagine what everything might look like when it was finished. The clanging of the hall door disturbed Amanda from her thoughts. 

“I hope you’re hungry.” Martin said with a smile. He carried four boxes of pizzas and a six-pack of beers and put them in the middle of the table. 

“I’m not gonna lie, I can eat an entire pizza by myself.” Amanda grinned. Her stomach growled. “How hot are they?” 

Martin helped himself to a slice and bit into it thoughtfully. “Warm, but not gonna burn your tastebuds.” 

Tentatively Amanda reached for a slice, brushing the crust to gauge the temperature. “Perfect.” She grinned and picked up the slice. 

“Beer?” 

“Please.” Amanda looked at the label and raised her eyebrows. “I did not have you pegged for a hipster beer drinker.” 

“I’m not.” Martin admitted, pulling a bottle opener from his pocket. “I figured I’d better spring for the fancy shit, just in case.” 

Amanda smiled. “Honestly I draw the line at Fosters and VB but pretty much anything else is drinkable. Especially if I didn’t pay for it. Speaking of which,” Amanda went to her bag and pulled out her wallet. “How much do I owe you?” 

“Nothin’.” 

“Try again,” Amanda retorted. 

“We’re in complicated barter territory, remember? Don’t worry about it.” 

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Fine.” 

Martin sat at the table and smiled around his mouthful of pizza. “About that complicated barter territory.” 

“Hm?” Amanda sat beside him. “What about it?” 

“When are you gonna torture me with the movie version of this musical?” 

Amanda laughed. “If you’d like to cast your eye over the new schedule,” she slumped, “it might have to wait til school holidays.” 

“You’re kiddin’.” 

“I wish.” 

Martin looked over the calendar thoughtfully. “There’s nothing slated for Sunday night.” 

“You really want to watch it that bad?” Amanda asked with more than a little scepticism. 

“No.” Martin smiled. “But the sooner we get Sound of Music out of the way, the sooner we can watch a decent movie.” 

Amanda felt her face get warm. “Sunday? Dinner and a couple of movies?” 

“Sounds good.” 

“My place or yours? Fair warning, I can’t cook, so if you want something other than take away it’s going to have to be your place.” 

Martin smiled. “My place it is. Bring that shitty DVD with you.” 

Amanda returned the smile as the others arrived for the meeting. “Farah, Dirk, hi. Dinner, courtesy of Martin.” 

Farah sat down and smiled awkwardly. Dirk perched beside her, looking around. He frowned. 

“Where’s Todd?” Dirk asked. 

“Todd is no longer working on the musical.” Amanda announced to shocked gasps. “Irreconcilable differences. Martin and the manual arts department will be helping out instead and I’ll be stepping in on the music side of things.” 

“What happened?” Dirk was visibly shocked. 

Amanda squared her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. We’re moving on. Now, ‘Sixteen going on seventeen’…”


	6. Chapter 6

There were a great many downsides to living in a small town, but being within walking distance of a bottle shop was not one of them. Todd sighed as he walked, wishing Australia’s public drinking laws weren’t so painful. If he were still in Germany he’d be able to have a beer in his hand while walking to get more. Drinking his sorrows was of course the logical answer to his totally self-made problem. Amanda wasn’t answering her phone and Todd couldn’t stop feeling sick with shame.

Still a block away from his destination, Todd saw an off-leash dog. It trotted along without an apparent owner in sight; seven p.m. on a Tuesday night may as well have been midnight for all the foot traffic around. Looking closely Todd saw a collar and medallion around the dog’s neck. He sighed. Someone would be missing the cute, stumpy-legged creature. How hard could it be to catch such a ridiculously short dog anyway? 

Quite hard, it turned out. 

Todd was exceedingly glad of the lack of audience to his mildly intoxicated dog-chasing shenanigans. The dog was quick and sneaky and was only caught when Todd cornered it behind a complicated hedge. Grabbing the collar with a triumphant yell, Todd was suddenly intimately aware of the very pathetic state of his life. He sighed again. 

Lifting the pliant dog into his arms, Todd checked the address on the tag; apparently its home was only two blocks away from where he currently stood. Attempting to square his slumping shoulders Todd headed off toward the dog’s home. 

A few minutes later Todd knocked on the door in question. A tidy garden framed a cute single level brick home with two cars in the driveway. Lots of lights were on and Todd could smell something delicious cooking inside. 

“Todd?” Farah couldn’t hide her surprise when she opened the door. 

“Farah, hey,” Todd wasn’t much better. “Is this your dog?” 

“Rapunzel! Damnit, yes, sorry,” Farah easily took the dog, “naughty Rapunzel!” 

Rapunzel was entirely unbothered, her tongue lolling out happily. 

“Hold on, I’ve gotta call Lydia.” Farah pulled her phone out of her pocket without waiting for input from Todd. “Honey, she’s home. She’s safe. A – friend – from work found her. Yes, a work friend. Ok, see you soon.” 

“Ok, so, I’ll see you later-” 

“Won’t you come in?” Farah moved aside. “Lydia will want to thank you. And prove to herself that you exist.” 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

“You’re not. Trust me.” Farah nodded encouragingly. 

With an almost reluctant smile Todd went inside, closing the door behind him and following Farah into the home. Mismatched furniture managed to look stylishly eclectic and the walls were covered in photos. There were a lot of photos of the dog. 

“She’s like our baby,” Farah smiled indulgently at the oblivious dog in her arms, “Lydia spoils her rotten.” 

“Right.” Todd nodded politely. 

Farah led him into the kitchen and deposited Rapunzel onto the ground in front of a full food bowl. “Please, take a seat. Can I get you a drink?” 

“Uh, sure.” 

“Craft beer or dry cider?” 

“Beer, thanks.” Todd sat at the dining room table with the cold bottle. 

“Thanks for finding Rapunzel-” 

“Farah?” A woman shouted, slamming through the front door. She ran into the kitchen and into Farah’s arms, clearly a little frantic. Rapunzel the dog immediately wiggled her way over to the pair and danced between their feet. “Oh Rapunzel!” She got to her knees to pet and scold the dog at the same time. 

“Todd, this is my wife, Lydia.” Farah introduced with a warm smile. “Honey, this is Todd. He’s a music teacher from work.” 

“Hi!” Lydia stood and picked up Rapunzel to better cuddle the animal. “Did you find this silly loaf of a dog?” 

“Yeah, a couple blocks away.” Todd tried to smile. 

“Thank you so much. She’s practically our baby.” Lydia laughed. She set the wriggling animal back on the floor. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” 

“Oh, I couldn’t-” 

“Yes you could.” Lydia interrupted. “You’re the second nice person from Farah’s work I’ve met in the last month, I’m going to keep this roll going.” Rapunzel abandoned Lydia for Todd, fawning over his feet and whining for pats. Lydia laughed. “Besides, Rapunzel seems to like you.” 

“You wouldn’t know it by the way she ran away from me earlier. She’s faster than she looks.” Todd scowled. 

“Oh don’t I know it. How do you think she always manages to escape?” Farah raised a pointed eyebrow at her wife. 

“You love her, don’t even pretend you don’t.” Lydia pressed a light kiss to Farah’s mouth before returning to the dinner prep. 

“You’ve been in town a while, right?” Todd asked the couple. 

Farah pursed her lips and Lydia outright frowned. 

“I’d forgotten how unfriendly small towns could be.” Lydia said after a moment. She affectionately brushed Farah’s back as she moved through the kitchen. 

“I grew up near here. I know all about it.” Todd said with feeling. 

“Oh?” Farah raised her brows questioningly. 

Todd sipped his beer, his heart pounding. “I’m five foot six and came out at the height of my emo phase. Guess how well that went.” 

After a moment spent adjusting her view of the world, Farah smiled. “I hope you like vegetable pie.” 

*

“There you are!” 

Todd jumped, startled, scrawling a line across the whiteboard. “Dirk, what are you doing here?” 

“You weren’t at the meeting this week. I missed,” Dirk paused self-consciously by the door, “your insights.” 

“I wasn’t at the meeting because I’m not working on the musical anymore.” 

Dirk stammered. “Amanda did mention that.” 

“She mention anything else?” 

“Irreconcilable differences?” 

Todd scoffed. “That’s one way to put it.” 

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

Todd sighed. “You don’t understand, Dirk. I’m a shitty person. I’m a shitty brother.” 

“It’s not quite that cut-and-dry, though, is it?” 

“I stole from my own sister! And then I lied to her about it.” 

Dirk hesitated. “What?” 

“I stole from the musical cashbox,” Todd leaned against the whiteboard as he spoke. “I needed a win, a good one, to get some people off my back. I thought I’d be able to pay it back before Amanda noticed.” 

“Oh Todd. How bad is it?” 

“I paid back the musical. That’s all that matters. But Amanda will never speak to me again.” 

Dirk wanted to approach Todd but was too awkward to actually get any closer. “So you made a mistake?” Dirk tried to console him. “We all make mistakes, Todd. No one’s perfect.” 

“Except you.” 

Dirk felt his cheeks warm considerably. “Todd, listen-” 

“Forget I said anything.” Todd tried to leave. Dirk grabbed him by the arm. 

“No, Todd, you have to listen! I’m not who you think I am.” 

Todd leapt way ahead on the nightmare train and felt his stomach sink like lead. Of course he’d read the situation entirely wrong, hadn’t he, Dirk wasn’t interested in him at all. How stupid could he be? His eyes burned with embarrassment. 

“I’m not just a teacher.” Dirk said quietly. 

For a moment Todd was relieved, until Dirk’s words registered. “What do you mean, you’re not just a teacher?” 

Dirk let Todd’s arm go and stepped back. He opened his mouth a few times before words finally came out. “I’ve been hired to investigate the school. More specifically, Principal Wilson. And I need your help.” 

“What the hell kind of help do you think I’ll be?” Todd scoffed. 

“All I have on Wilson right now is circumstantial, enough to warrant perhaps a warning. At best, her connections will protect her and she’ll be moved within the district. At worst, I’ll lose my job and nothing will change.” 

“Did you not hear me?” Todd sneered. “I’m a terrible person. I can’t help anyone. I just ruin everything.” Without waiting for a response Todd slouched out of the room. 

Dirk stared after him, frozen, caught between frustration and a genuine fear for his new friend. Todd had never been a ray of sunshine but his behaviour seemed dark, even for him. 

*

Later that night, Todd was sitting in his boxers on the couch, holding a lukewarm beer and not seeing the TV show in front of him, just for something different. His phone buzzed and his stomach lurched. Reaching for it, Todd saw it wasn’t his sister texting. The message was from Dirk instead. There was a picture of a tin of tomatoes and a packet of pasta on a kitchen bench, with a six-pack of Todd’s favourite beer behind them. 

_How do I cook this?_

Todd texted back quickly. _Don’t put the beer in._

A few minutes passed before the next message. A picture showed pasta shells strewn across the kitchen, with the text: _Might need some assistance… 2/42 Salmon Court._

Todd sighed. _Don’t touch anything! I’ll be there in ten_. Fortunately his attempt to switch to light beers meant he wasn’t over the limit and could safely drive. Todd put on a clean-ish shirt and pants, found some shoes, and got his keys and phone. 

It was a small town and the drive was brief. Todd pulled up in front of the freshly built apartment block and noted its beautiful landscaping and classy furnishings. A tasteful light illuminated the block number and Todd swore he could hear the gentle tinkling of a water feature. He pressed the buzzer for Dirk’s apartment and was quickly let in the tall security gate. 

“Todd, excellent!” Dirk opened the door with a grin and a tacky ‘Kiss the Cook!’ apron on. “Do come in.” 

Todd smiled tightly and looked around the spacious apartment. The chic living room looked like it came out of a mid-century magazine but it seemed soulless. The kitchen was spacious enough to make Todd jealous, and it overlooked the living room and out onto a shadowy balcony. A small black cat meeped and hid under the couch. 

“I thought I’d try this whole cooking experiment again. After all, it didn’t seem so hard when _you_ did it, but,” Dirk looked over the disaster zone that was his kitchen, “something has gone awry.” 

“Yeah, that something is _you_ , Dirk.” 

“Yes I rather suspected as much.” 

Todd sighed. “What were you trying to make, exactly?” 

“Spaghetti.” Dirk shrugged. He took off his apron and looped the neck strap over Todd’s head. 

Much to his embarrassment Todd felt his cheeks flush at the closeness. He bustled into the kitchen as he tied the apron strings behind him before rummaging through the cupboards. 

Dirk nodded and managed to open two beers without breaking anything. He handed one over to Todd and smiled, that smile widening when Todd’s fingers brushed his. 

“I think I can save this,” Todd said quickly. “You won’t get leftovers though.” 

“That’s fine, I never liked the same meal twice in a row.” 

Todd smiled awkwardly. He scooped up the pasta from the bench and put it in a pot before turning his attention to the sauce. “You got any veggies?” 

“A couple, I think. I don’t really believe in vegetables.” 

“How do you not believe in vegetables?” 

“They all taste like dirt.” 

“They do not,” Todd laughed, digging through the fridge. While some things in there had certainly seen better days, and possibly better centuries, the couple of carrots and tomatoes seemed fine. He quickly got chopping, sipping beer as he went. 

“You seem better than earlier today.” 

Todd sighed. “I’m not. Not really.” He looked at Dirk. “Who hired you to investigate the school?” 

“I can’t say. It’s a matter of investigator-client privilege.” 

“That’s not a thing.” 

“It is when it’s my clients and me investigating.” Dirk insisted. “Please Todd. I want your help with this.” 

“How can _I_ help?” Todd sighed. “I’m no use to anyone.” 

“Your fight with Amanda is quite fortuitous.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” Todd snapped. 

“No, no, I mean,” Dirk scrambled, “if I’m right, then the distance between you and your sister will endear you to Wilson.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Dirk sat on the edge of the counter and leaned forward intently. “Think about it, Todd. You’ve been kicked off the musical for stealing from your own sister. Wilson is looking for an excuse to get rid of Amanda, so if you go to her, Wilson, with a sob story about revenge, she might just take the bait.” 

“What bait?” 

“The bait we’ll dangle in front of her. Embezzle from the musical, ruin the whole production, and try to fire Amanda without grounds.” Dirk grinned. 

Todd stared, his brow alarmingly furrowed upwards. “You’re kidding. I can’t do that to Amanda!” 

“We’re not actually going to do it, obviously,” Dirk rolled his eyes, “we’re just going to get Wilson to incriminate herself.” 

Setting the sauce to simmer, Todd picked at the label on his beer. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Of course. Sure as anything.” 

Todd sighed. “Maybe Amanda would forgive me if I helped her keep her job?” 

“It’s the right thing to do.” Dirk nodded convincingly. 

“Fine. What do I have to do?”


	7. Chapter 7

It was just a movie. Maybe two movies. Just possibly two movies and dinner. Two really long movies. And dinner. _Oh god._

Amanda parked her bike in front of the address Martin had given her and took a few deep breaths. The cottage had a shallow veranda and light spilled out the windows. She smiled at the old black ute in the driveway. Pulling her helmet off Amanda shook out her hair just in time for Martin to open the front door. He leaned against the doorframe with a tea towel in his hand and a panting dog sat by his feet. 

“That thing ain’t subtle.” Martin gestured to the bike. 

“I didn’t get it for the subtlety.” 

Martin smiled. “Come on up. This is Hugo. He don’t bite but he might try and lick you to death.” He looked down at the wriggling pit-bull. 

“Hi, Hugo,” Amanda said, trying to contain the cute overload, “hey buddy. Oh my god he’s so precious! Is he going to run away with the door open like that?” She scratched behind his mangled ears and he licked her gloved hand. 

“He’s well trained, don’t worry, but outside of what I trained him to do he’s kinda thick.” 

“What happened to his ears?” Amanda looked at the tattered skin. 

“He’s a rescue. Hugo, inside.” Martin ordered. The pit-bull immediately turned tail and bolted through the house. “His former owners used him to fight.” 

“That’s awful.” 

“Yeah. He’s happy now though. Just don’t leave your socks unattended, I don’t remember the last time I had a matching pair. You wanna come in?” 

Amanda smiled. “Thanks.” 

Inside was a pleasant surprise. For an adult who didn’t seem to own a pair of jeans without holes in them, Martin had made his place feel homey. The short hallway had a few frames along the walls and the living room had real framed prints. A couch, TV unit and coffee table occupied the small space and a few short bookshelves were stuffed full. There was even a large rug across the worn floorboards. 

Hugo danced across the rug to get to Amanda, his wagging tail hitting against her legs. She pulled off her gloves and set her things down to pat him again. Without warning Hugo launched himself at her, his nails dragging down the front of her legs. Even through the denim Amanda felt the claws like knives. 

“Hugo, down!” Martin ordered, watching Amanda’s eyes fill with tears. Hugo immediately sat. “Amanda, are you ok? What’s wrong?” 

Amanda recoiled from the sitting dog, her hands pressing at her burning thighs. Her throat closed up as pain dominated her senses. She was dimly aware of Martin trying to say something but she couldn’t focus. After a few panic-stricken moments Martin appeared in her field of vision. 

“C’mon, come sit,” Martin carefully guided her through to the kitchen. He pushed a chair under Amanda and she sat heavily. Quickly Martin crouched in front of her, gently taking her hands in his. “You’re ok. Hugo’s not gonna hurt you again. Take a deep breath for me.” 

Amanda tried and choked a little. 

“You call that a breath? Try again. Come on, just one decent go and then I can get you a drink.” 

Closing her eyes Amanda tried again, forcing her heart to slow down as best she could. The warmth of Martin’s hands on hers was grounding and Amanda focussed on the sensation. Her breath slowed and her throat started to relax. 

“That’s more like it.” 

“Ow.” Amanda said at last. She opened her eyes to find Martin staring. 

“I am so sorry.” Martin searched her face as he spoke. “I’ll never let him near you again.” 

“It wasn’t his fault. Or yours.” Amanda said pointedly. “It just happens sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, no more jumping up on me would be _great_ , but Hugo didn’t mean to hurt me. Where is he?” 

“Outside. Where he’s stayin’.” Martin insisted. “You ok?” 

Amanda took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m fine.” She looked down at their joined hands. “Thank you. I didn’t ever tell you how to deal with an overload, did I?” 

“Nope. I took a guess. Was that, ok?” Martin went to move away but Amanda squeezed his hands instead. 

“Yeah, definitely ok. For future overloads? This works.” Amanda squeezed his hands again and smiled. “A comforting sensation can help combat the overloading one.” 

Martin sighed, relieved. “Good to know. You ready for a drink?” 

“So ready.” 

“Good, coz my knee’s shot.” Martin laughed and got to his feet, letting Amanda’s hands go. He limped a little as he moved around the kitchen. 

“How’d you manage that?” Amanda turned to watch him, absently massaging her thighs. 

“I used to play a lot of football, to the point where college scouts from the States were comin’ to watch me at the start of the season. I caught a bad tackle and smashed my knee into a million pieces. Never played again.” He shrugged, getting beers out of the fridge and handing one over. 

“That must’ve been hard. Having that dream taken away from you.” 

“It was, but it all worked out. My life ain’t so bad.” He looked at her over the top of his glasses. “Are you gonna be ok?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Amanda blushed. “Please don’t treat me like I’m made of glass? If I’m not ok I’ll tell you. Trust me.” 

Martin leaned against the bench with his drink in hand. “You’re way too stubborn to be made of glass.” After a long moment he turned his attention to the stovetop. “You hungry? You didn’t mention any allergies so I hope you like mapo tofu.” 

“What’s that involve?” 

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Pork, tofu, and delicious flavour. Do you like mild, medium or blow-your-face-off-hot chilli?” 

“I can only really have mild, sorry. It smells amazing.” 

Heaping a spoon of red paste into the sizzling pan, Martin smiled. “It’ll keep you warm. The heating in this place sucks.” 

Amanda heard a pathetic whine from the back door. “You can let him in, he’s fine.” 

“I ain’t takin’ that risk.” 

“ _I_ am,” Amanda insisted. She crossed her legs under her on the chair. “He didn’t know any better. Go on.” 

With a heavy sigh Martin opened the back door. Hugo burst in, all wiggle and slobber, and headed straight for Amanda. She quickly leaned down to pat him so he wouldn’t have an excuse to jump, but the attention was short lived. Hugo quickly moved to sit right by Martin’s foot, looking up at human dinner optimistically. 

“I don’t know why you think you’re gettin’ this. I have never fed you a single thing from the stove. You know where your dinner is.” 

Hugo huffed and trotted into the living room. 

Amanda tried not to laugh. “I brought the DVD but I won’t make you watch the special features.” 

“Thank Christ.” Martin turned the stovetop off and started heaping rice and meat sauce into two bowls. “I hope you don’t mind eating on the couch.” 

“I have a one room studio apartment with no room for a dining suite. I usually eat in bed.” Amanda blushed as she admitted it. 

“Glad I’m not disrupting the natural order of things.” Martin picked up the bowls and headed into the living room. It was a short walk. He put dinner on the low coffee table and turned to her. “DVD?” 

Amanda handed over the case and sat on the couch, pulling off her shoes and tucking her legs underneath her. Hugo had evidently licked his own bowl clean and curled up in front of the couch with a sigh. With a long-suffering expression Martin nudged the pit-bull out of the way so he could sit properly on the couch. 

As the opening music began Martin gave Amanda a long and incredibly sceptical stare. 

“Give me the remote,” Amanda laughed, “I’ll skip the abbey viewing montage.” 

Martin handed over the control as he ate. 

“You want to watch the best opening song ever?” 

Martin gave another long look. 

“You’ve got to watch _some_ of this movie,” Amanda insisted as she skipped through the alps, “even if our bargain works in my favour, you said you’d watch this.” 

“I know. I don’t go back on my promises.” 

Amanda liked that he took it seriously. It boded well for anything else he might promise and Amanda tried not to immediately blush as she thought it. “Good.” 

A few lines into nuns singing about Maria, Martin turned to Amanda again. “Are you ok about the Todd thing?” 

“Not really.” 

“You want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Amanda was silent for a moment before she sighed. “I think he has a gambling problem.” 

Martin raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious?” 

“I think he stole from the musical to pay a debt. He said he had to win big to fix everything.” Amanda stared at the screen without seeing anything. 

Martin nodded thoughtfully. “You think he needs help?” 

“I think he needs his ass kicked.” 

“I’ll hold him down.” 

“I’ve been able to beat him up since I was thirteen. Thanks though. I think Todd might need help more than a punch to the guts.” Amanda said quietly. “It’s not my responsibility to fix him.” 

“You’re right,” Martin agreed, “and you made the right call. If he’s open to getting help, then he’ll get help.” 

“I didn’t even tell our parents. It would destroy them.” 

“Are they nearby? Your folks?” 

Amanda finished eating and set the bowl aside. “Kind of. They’re about an hour away in a town a lot like this.” 

“These places are a dime a dozen.” 

“So where are you from, then?” 

Martin put his empty bowl down. “I grew up in the western suburbs of Sydney.” 

“How’d you end up here?” 

“Unlocking my tragic backstory is a two-beer deal. You want another one?” 

Amanda nodded, finishing her first drink, and Martin headed to the kitchen for more beers. He cracked them open and sat down, patting Hugo absently. 

Amanda smiled. “I have a lot of hidden talents, right? Gosh, this almost feels unfair.” She started drinking the beer. She kept drinking, and drinking, and drinking, until the bottle was empty. 

“You keep that pace up you won’t be driving anytime soon.” 

“Please. This movie goes for hours, and The Expendables is almost as long. I’ll be fine.” Amanda smiled. “Can I have some water?” 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Martin got her a glass and sat back down. “After my knee reconstruction, I barely finished high school. I kind of opted out of life for a while. I spent some time avoiding jail, started out in schools as a teacher aide in a complicated good behaviour bond arrangement, ended up at uni and eventually ended up out here.” 

“You left Sydney for _this_?” 

“City life don’t agree with me.” Martin shrugged. “I like it better out here. There’s air, and stars.” 

Amanda looked at him, smiling, the beer having gone straight to her head. She blinked slowly. “It’s been a while since I sculled a whole beer.” 

“Maybe this movie would be funner if I was drunk?” Martin mused. 

Liesl and Rolf swung into ‘Sixteen going on seventeen’ and Martin almost felt the soul leave his body. He drank the rest of his beer very quickly. 

“We’re makin’ kids sing this?” Martin asked. “Did he _seriously_ just-” 

Amanda laughed. “It’s not a feminist manifesto, that’s for sure. She gets away from him I promise.” 

“And now for a bit of casual dancin’ around a gazebo in the rain?” Martin rolled his eyes. 

“Of course, what else do you do on a rainy evening with your secret soon-to-be-Hitler-youth-boyfriend?” 

“Why did I agree to this?” 

“Because you thought you were tricking me into watching one of the most gratuitously violent films made in the last ten years.” Amanda shrugged. “I think this is the universe getting you back, to be honest.” 

Martin laughed, glancing back to the movie. “They’re about to sing another song, aren’t they.” 

“I’m sorry, are you confused about the nature of musicals? Buddy I have some news for you.” 

“It’s gonna be in my head for _days_.” Martin groaned. 

“You haven’t worked on a musical til you go to sleep thinking about it, and then you dream about it, and then you wake up with the songs in your head.” 

“Sounds miserable.” 

“You’ll love it.” Amanda grinned. 

A while later Martin eyed off the curtain clothes being thoroughly played in against a particularly bad alpine backdrop. “This is so wholesome I think I’m gonna puke. Oh Christ, _another song_?” 

Amanda laughed. “It’s still a musical.” She watched the unfolding song with a smile. “This was my grandma’s second favourite.” 

“You said she was Austrian?” 

“Yeah. I’ve never been to Europe though. Todd went after he finished school but I never got the chance.” Amanda’s eyes went back to the movie. 

“Does she ever not look smug?” 

“Maria? Not really.” 

‘Do-re-mi’ finally ended and Martin sighed. “Thank Christ that’s over.” 

“We’re not even halfway through.” 

Martin stared at her. “You’re kidding. I need another drink.” 

“While you’re up?” Amanda looked at his empty bottle with a smile. 

Bringing another couple of beers back Martin left them on the table before heading through one of two closed doors off the hallway. He emerged with a blanket and left it in the middle of the couch. “Cold beers are all well and good til the air’s freezing. Help yourself.” 

Amanda pulled a corner of the blanket over her legs as she settled into the couch. Hugo rolled over with a growly snore, making Amanda smile. “Oh, see this?” She pointed at the screen in time for the Captain to be staunchly anti-Nazi. “This is what Wilson wants me to cut.” 

Waiting for the moment to end, Martin looked at Amanda closely. “That was the most genuine scene so far.” 

“I know.” Amanda sighed. 

“You can’t cut it.” 

“I wasn’t going to.” 

Martin turned a little to face her. “Much as I’d miss you if you left, you can’t cut this stuff out.” 

“You’d miss me?” 

“Yeah.” 

Amanda tried not to smile and looked back to the movie. When the Captain was eventually handed a guitar Amanda nudged Martin. “This one,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the Captain. As happened every time she heard the song, Amanda sat enraptured, remembering the sound of her grandma humming along. Amanda smiled. 

“That don’t seem worth getting rid of,” Martin said quietly when it was over. 

“It’s sung a second time, as an act of defiance against the Nazis. I think it was _that_ instance Wilson was against.” Amanda sighed. 

“You don’t look like someone who’d get teary over a musical.” Martin remarked. 

Amanda wiped her eyes. “You trying to tell me that didn’t move your soul, just a bit? Maybe the way Maria and the Captain looked at each other just then made you smile?” 

“It’s pretty heavy-handed for a love story.” 

“Says the guy who likes The Expendables, which is about as subtle as a red rag to a bull.” 

Martin sipped his beer. “Is this nearly over yet? I feel like I need to see some ugly dudes blowing shit up.” 

“They’re not all ugly. Sure, Stallone’s got a face like a dropped pie, but fortunately he’s in the minority.” 

With a reasonable amount of complaining expected from a grown man being subjected to a musical, Martin endured the remainder of the film. When ‘Edelweiss’ was performed a second time, the Captain standing up to the Nazis the best way he knew how, Martin felt it in his bones. 

“See? Beautiful.” Amanda said quietly. She’d seen his eyes soften when the Captain lost his voice. 

“Maybe.” Martin admitted. 

“I’m glad you have a heart in there somewhere.” 

“Somewhere.” Martin nodded. “Please tell me this is over soon.” 

“We can tap out. You’ve seen the good bits.” Amanda relented. “Where’s your bathroom?” 

Martin pointed to the back of the cottage and Amanda skipped off. Closing the door behind her she looked around, finding a suspiciously clean bathroom. Amanda eyed off the products she could see before using the facilities and returning to the living room. 

“Ready for some gratuitous violence?” Martin asked with a smile. 

“Sign me up.” Amanda grinned. She pulled the blanket up and settled into the couch. “I love these movies.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Unashamed action and explosions and a zillion references to their own movie-making pasts? What’s not to love?” 

Martin smiled. “I guess.” 

The movie was loud and full of a spectacular amount of blood. The violence was unrelenting and Amanda loved it, but about halfway through she started to yawn. 

“I might have to bail,” Amanda said after another yawn. “Can we finish this next time?” 

“Sure thing.” Martin looked at her. “You know, you could stay. If you want.” 

Amanda felt excitement wash over her only to be drowned out by a confusing mix of sensibleness and outright nervousness. “It’s a school night, and it’s late. I should go.” 

Martin wasn’t fazed. “That’s fair.” 

“Maybe next time?” Amanda put on her shoes and couldn’t bring herself to look at him without blushing for eternity. She retrieved her DVD and helmet and waited by the hall. “Thanks for dinner. And Hugo is delightful, aren’t you?” 

At the mention of his name Hugo lifted his head and yawned. 

“Any time.” Martin got to his feet, Hugo sleepily following him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Lunch?” 

Amanda nodded. “I’ll come by your staff room.” Heading straight for the door Amanda let herself out. She pulled her helmet on and started the bike, peeling out of Martin’s street amid a lot of noise from the mufflers. 

Looking down at his dopey rescue dog, Martin sighed. “I’m glad she likes you, buddy. Damned if I know what she thinks about _me_.”


	8. Chapter 8

Dress rehearsals were always a heady mix of exciting and terrifying. Amanda lost count of the cups of coffee she’d taken to drinking daily, but always found time to smile at Martin when he handed over a fresh mug.

Standing by the exuberantly paint-spattered art teacher Bartine, Amanda frowned at the painted scene before them. “Are you sure about this?” she asked. 

“Sure I’m sure,” Bartine shrugged, “once the stage lights hit, these colours will pop, trust me. Hey Ken!” She turned to shout at the mixing desk. “Show us what you got.” 

Ken, the most beleaguered I.T. teacher Amanda had ever known, fiddled about with the dials and slides before him. The main hall lights dimmed and white light flooded the stage. Amanda blinked and stepped back from the scenery. 

“I don’t see it.” Amanda admitted. She sipped her coffee. 

“C’mon,” Bartine nudged her backward, “go be the audience for a sec. Trust me.” 

Amanda reluctantly climbed down from the stage to stand next to Ken. Her eyes widened when she finally saw what Bartine had been on about. The painted alps were phenomenal, easily better than the cardboard backing from the film. “That’s amazing!” 

“Right?” Bartine grinned. “I got some ideas about your ballroom scene colours if you’re interested.” 

“Definitely interested.” Amanda said immediately. She checked the time on her phone. “Damnit. I gotta go meet Farah and the von Trapps, I’ll be back in about half an hour. Can you show me what you got when I get back?” 

“Yeah sure.” 

“Thanks, Bartine.” Amanda looked upward to see Gripps and Vogle practically dancing in the rigging above the stage. “You guys all good up there?” 

“We got this!” Vogle waved. 

“I’ll make sure they don’t fall and die,” Martin offered. “We got a bunch of kids coming through for some crowd scenes soon, right?” 

Amanda groaned. “Right. Jesus. Dirk’s bringing them in to take them through the setting, if you could help him keep them in the hall? And maybe even on task for a bit?” 

“I can’t go promising any miracles now.” 

“I owe you.” 

“Dinner and a movie?” Martin asked astutely. 

Amanda buried her smile in her coffee mug. “Sure thing.” Not trusting herself to look back Amanda rushed from the hall to one of the nearby classrooms. She didn’t even have time to ponder Martin’s offer before she found Farah. The dance teacher, with gorgeous patience, was helping the von Trapp children with the staging of ‘So long, farewell’. Farah and Amanda worked together with the students before it was time to bring them into the hall for a proper run through. 

All in all, Amanda decided the ballroom scene was _almost_ watchable. The room full of dancing nobility needed a little refining and despite Vogle’s best efforts the backdrop only lowered halfway and refused to budge. Amanda tried to convince the kids that it taught them an important lesson about ‘the show must go on’ but mostly they just giggled whenever they remembered the scenery was busted. 

Corralling students through the rest of the act with prompting and a few dropped pieces of furniture, Amanda was consumed with only mild anxiety. With less than a month til opening night the situation was coming together pretty well. Once the students had left Amanda worked with the other teachers to clean up. 

“I love how the kids’ idea of ‘cleaning up’ is like, rearranging piles of shit into exciting new piles in new locations?” Amanda rolled her eyes. She collected up a stack of nun’s habits to put on hangers. 

At the other end of the dressing room, Martin laughed. “Some kids don’t grow out of it. Vogle lived with me for a bit and he’s just as bad.” 

“In the place you’re in now?” 

“Yep. It was cosy.” 

Amanda stared. “Damn. I haven’t shared a place since uni. I don’t know if I could do it again.” 

“Wouldn’t recommend it,” Martin said with feeling, “I nearly killed him a few times. It’s like he was allergic to washin’ up. I’m not a clean freak but your sink should not be able to support a damn ecosystem.” 

Amanda laughed as she threaded costumes onto hangers. “I had a housemate once who refused to empty the kitchen bin. Straight up refused. I went away for a week, came back to maggots in the bin, and he stood there and watched me clean it up. I put the bin out in the back laundry to soak and moved out a week later, but when I visited the place like _six months later_ the bin was still in the laundry.” 

“Why are people so damn gross?” 

“No idea. Which is why I live alone.” 

“I still haven’t seen your place.” Martin pointed out. He neatened up stacks of makeup and minor props along the bench, slowly moving toward Amanda. “I think you owe me dinner and a movie.” 

Amanda cast a sideways look in Martin’s direction. Her heart raced. “I think you might be right. Unfortunately I’m all booked up for about the next month.” 

“You should check the schedule and let me know,” Martin said with a smile. He’d cleaned up enough to end up beside Amanda at the makeshift makeup counter. “Or are you playing hard to get?” 

“Is it working?” 

“I ain’t fussy. Just about anythin’ would work.” 

Amanda laughed and looked up at Martin’s bright eyes. “Good to know.” 

The moment stretched out and Amanda found that she was nervous, like high school crush level nervous. Suddenly she was worried about her breath, and knowing her luck there was probably food stuck in her teeth. Had she washed off yesterday’s makeup properly or was there chunks of eyeliner smeared across her face? She’d probably grown a pimple on the end of her nose in the last five minutes as well. _Oh god_. 

“You done in here?” Farah called out as she strode in. Seeing Martin leaning close to a blushing Amanda, Farah baulked. “Uh, I can come back later. Actually, never mind. I was never here.” 

Amanda laughed, moving away from Martin. “Let’s call it a night.” Heading back out into the main part of the hall, Amanda called out, “it’s quitting time folks! See you tomorrow.” She waved as Farah, Dirk and most of the manual arts teachers trudged out of the hall. 

“I’ll walk you to the car park?” Martin offered. 

“Thanks,” Amanda nodded, only mildly anxious, and locked up the hall. She yawned hugely as they walked through the grounds. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I was this tired. I feel like my eyes are on fire.” 

“Are you right to drive home?” 

“Yeah, I can just about drive in my sleep. Plus I’m pretty close by.” 

“In a town this size, virtually everything is close by.” 

“Ok, that’s a good point,” Amanda conceded. “So why do you live on the edge of town?” 

“I don’t much like people.” 

“So a career as a teacher was a smart move.” 

Martin laughed. “I don’t like people when I want to be alone. Living any closer, or in units or whatever, people are too packed in. I don’t like the feel of it. I really hate the suburbs.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me. The house we grew up in had a formal living room that we used like, twice in my whole life. It had the ‘good couch’ and the ‘good TV’ but we literally never used it. What a pointless space.” 

“And now you’re in a studio?” Martin raised an eyebrow. 

“Yep, and there’s not an _inch_ of wasted space in there. Trust me.” 

Martin smiled. “I hope you get some decent rest. I feel like the pace of this is going to get worse before it gets better.” 

“You’re right about that.” Amanda sighed. “And I have ‘The lonely goatherd’ stuck in my head. Goddamn.” 

“Don’t say it!” Martin recoiled. “It’s like a curse, as soon as you say it, then it gets in _my_ head.” 

“I don’t want to be in this hell alone.” Amanda retorted. Arriving in the car park she zipped up her jacket. “You know, Todd was so damn sceptical that you’d agree to do this.” 

“Yeah?” 

Amanda nodded. “I kind of was too, the day we first met.” 

“Well,” Martin shrugged, “it ain’t all bad. Don’t get me wrong, the songs are _bad_ , but the rest of it’s been almost fun.” 

“Only almost?” Amanda rolled her eyes and decided on a quick escape before she did something embarrassing. “On that note, I’ll see you tomorrow.” With one last smile she pulled her helmet on and climbed onto her bike. The engine roared to life and she drove off into the night. 

*

“Are you sure she’s not here?” 

“Definitely.” Dirk was always incredibly confident. 

Todd did not necessarily trust this confidence and always remembered the Kitchen Incident from their first movie night. He gave Dirk an incredibly suspicious look. 

“Todd, I’m _positive_. It’s a development day for most of the admin, they’ll all be in the conference room until at least lunch time.” 

“You’d better be right.” Todd groaned as they slipped into Wilson’s office. 

“I’m a part-time detective, of course I’m right. Now hurry up.” 

Todd rushed to the filing cabinets and pulled them open. “What am I looking for exactly?” 

“Anything suspicious.” 

“That is almost the least useful thing you’ve ever said.” 

Dirk was busy planting a small listening device under the corner of Wilson’s desk and didn’t reply. 

“I thought we were going to tell her I wanted to help her ruin everything?” 

“We are,” Dirk moved to stand by the filing cabinet, peeking in as he spoke, “but we’re also going to have to monitor those meetings, right? Therefore, the listening device! Oh, what’s that?” Dirk’s enthusiastic attention span had focussed in on a bunch of files with CONFIDENTIAL stamps on them. 

Todd pulled the files out and scanned his eye over the contents. “It just looks like meeting minutes, probably the P &C or something.” 

“But why would those be confidential?” 

The two men became aware of noise happening right outside the door. Todd recognised the tone of fear people used when speaking to Wilson and almost wet his pants. 

“ _She’s right outside!_ ” Todd whispered. 

“Shit!” Dirk grabbed the files and looked around the office in a panic. 

Todd was a little faster on his feet and went straight to the open window. Pushing the pane up higher he dove out headfirst into a shrub. Dirk followed at speed, landing atop Todd’s back most awkwardly in the greenery and trying not to shout out in pain. 

Waiting, panting quietly and trying not to rustle any leaves, Todd made some hasty promises to any listening deities that he’d give to charities for the rest of his life if Wilson didn’t catch them. Also, if he could keep from thinking about the warmth of Dirk’s body against him and the alarming proximity of limbs, that would be great too. _Amen or whatever._

They heard Wilson in her office briefly before she left again, but they stayed very still in the shrub for long moments afterwards. Todd tried to convince himself it was out of fear of getting caught, when in reality it was equal parts being-close-to-Dirk-is-nice and being-close-to-Dirk-is-hazardous. Any sudden movement could spell bruises and pain. 

“Are you alright?” Dirk asked eventually, his voice a hushed whisper. 

“I think so.” 

“Only you’ve gone very still and I’m pretty sure Wilson’s gone now.” 

“I can’t really move with you on top of me.” Todd pointed out before immediately blushing at the sentence he’d just said aloud. 

“Is that all?” Dirk wallowed for a bit as he struggled to right himself. He slithered off Todd with just a pang of regret and wormed his way out of the foliage, still clutching the stolen files. 

By the time Todd had extracted himself from the hedge most of the blushing had faded. He’d likely remember the feeling of Dirk’s body so close to his for some time, probably at highly inappropriate moments, like grocery shopping or having dinner with his parents. 

“Well that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dirk tried cheerily. 

“What the hell!” Todd lashed out. “Diving into damn hedges wasn’t part of the plan!” 

“No, you’re quite right, but it was a stroke of genius on your part to think of the best possible escape route. You’re rather good at the private detective game, I think.” 

Todd stared, angry and confused about a few things involving Dirk Gently. His conflicting crankiness met Dirk’s unending smile and was quickly deflated. Todd sighed. 

“Come along, Todd. We’ve got to check that the device is working.” 

“If it’s not, I am _not_ helping you replace it.” Todd warned. They started picking the leaves and twigs from one another’s clothes and hair. 

“Whatever you say, Todd.” 

*

Part Two of Dirk’s not incredibly sophisticated plan was to dangle Todd as bait right in front of awful, greedy Wilson. The meeting had been arranged and Todd tried not to sweat nervously as he waited outside Wilson’s door. 

“Come in.” 

Todd entered the office and sat in front of Wilson quickly. 

“What can I do for you Todd?” 

“It’s about my sister.” 

Wilson attempted a quick smile. She looked like she was holding in gas. “What about her.” 

“I’m sure you’ve heard, she kicked me off the musical.” 

“Something about that has been mentioned,” Wilson said slowly, “I hope you don’t think I can use any influence to get you reinstated. I’m afraid Amanda and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.” 

“I want to knock her down a peg or two,” Todd said firmly. “She can’t treat me like that and get away with it. I want to help you to hurt this production.” 

“What makes you think I want any such thing?” 

Todd smiled. “Amanda said you wanted to make some changes to the show, changes that she wouldn’t do. Even after you made it clear her contract wouldn’t be renewed if she kept on with her plans.” 

“Is that so?” 

“I need to keep her distracted, and if I can get back at her at the same time so be it,” Todd tried to be casual, “you can do whatever you want with that information.” 

Wilson stared at Todd for a long moment. “I thought you and your sister were close. Why do you suddenly want to do this?” 

“She’s threatening to tell my parents about some trouble I got myself in.” Todd went with honesty, hoping it would help sell his routine. 

“What kind of trouble?” 

Todd grimaced. “I owe a bookie some money.” 

“I see.” Wilson tried another quick smile. It wasn’t any better than the first attempt. “Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement. Tell me everything about the musical. If the information you give me helps form grounds to not renew Amanda’s contract, then perhaps I can help you out with your debts. If you continue to help me with any little problems that might arise around the school, the arrangement could become more _permanent_. And potentially more lucrative.” 

“Just so we’re clear,” Todd wanted to puke, “I tell you information that will hurt Amanda’s career, and there might be some financial compensation in it for me.” 

“Precisely.” 

Todd got to his feet and held out his hand. “You have a deal.” 

Walking casually back to the music staff room Todd felt physically ill. He’d known Wilson was a bad person but this was real; real messed up and illegal. Sitting at his desk Todd picked up his mug to make some coffee. Nestled inside the mug were a couple of tea bags and a little note. 

_The tea might help calm you more than caffeine-laden dirt water – Dirk_

Rolling his eyes, Todd made a mug of tea. While he wasn’t convinced of its calming affect Todd found comfort knowing that someone else was thinking about him. His brain took the opportunity to remember the feeling of Dirk lying on top of him in a shrub. Todd blushed furiously. 

That evening saw Todd heading for Dirk’s place after work. It would be their sixth DVD and dinner evening together, not that Todd was counting, and they were halfway through season one of Pokémon. Every time they caught up it was lots of fun and ended with a weird shoulder pat and an emphatic ‘Goodnight, Todd’ and Todd had no idea what was happening. It had only gotten more complex since the whole ‘going undercover’ plan was hatched and Todd couldn’t hope to predict what the evening had in store for him. 

“Come in, come in!” Dirk’s voice sang over the security intercom. The door buzzed open and Todd went up the stairs. Dirk met him at the door, grinning from ear to ear. “I boiled pasta without breaking anything!” 

Todd smiled. “Congratulations. You didn’t try any sauce, did you?” 

“Definitely not.” 

“Good plan.” Todd went straight to the kitchen and started throwing things in the frypan. “Did the recording work?” 

Dirk beamed. “It did! You did an amazing job, Todd.” Dirk passed Todd a beer before planting a swift kiss on Todd’s cheek. He sat on the kitchen counter, prepared to watch Todd cook, but found that Todd wasn’t moving at all. In fact, breathing might have ceased entirely. “Todd?” 

Todd put his beer down slowly. “Um.” 

“I’m sorry, should I have asked before I did that?” 

“Um.” 

Dirk’s expression twisted into one of concern. “Todd, I’m sorry-” 

Todd closed the distance between them and held Dirk’s face in his hands. “Is this a thing?” He asked huskily. “Are we a, a thing?” 

“I rather hope so? I didn’t want to start anything before you knew the truth about me, and about what I do-” 

With a brief smile Todd kissed Dirk, lacing his fingers behind Dirk’s neck to hold him tightly; with a startled gasp Dirk returned the kiss with a lot of enthusiasm. Dirk reached down to pull Todd closer to him but found the slight height difference annoyingly exacerbated by the height of the bench. He pulled away to slide off the counter and hold Todd properly, his smiling mouth kissing Todd once more. 

Todd ran his fingers through Dirk’s soft hair as the kisses became deeper; he parted his lips slightly and barely kept from moaning when Dirk’s tongue found his. Dirk was pushing up the edge of Todd’s shirt to reach bare skin and moved his mouth to Todd’s neck. This time Todd couldn’t stop himself and a low moan made its way up his throat; his skin felt deliciously warm wherever Dirk touched him. The feeling of being held and evidently desired was something Todd craved, and he endeavoured to make sure Dirk knew the attraction was definitely mutual. 

The worrying noise of a bubbling pan caught Todd’s attention and he tried to look at the pan in question. “Dirk, the food.” 

“Don’t care.” Dirk mumbled against Todd’s neck, his hands exploring the skin across Todd’s back. 

“Dirk,” Todd pulled away laughing, holding Dirk’s face in his hands again, “just let me take it off the heat. Then we can focus on something else, ok?” 

With a resigned sigh Dirk released Todd from his embrace. In mere seconds Todd had the stove turned off and all possible kitchen-related catastrophes were averted. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Todd asked. 

Dirk grinned, took Todd’s hand, and dragged him into the bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

Sleep ins were definitely the stuff of daydreams. There wasn’t enough time spent asleep for real dreams anymore. Amanda dragged herself out of bed and got dressed, trying to finish her coffee while it was still warm, and indulging in a piece of cold toast for breakfast. She was the first one to arrive at the hall for the day’s rehearsal, but only just.

“Amanda, hey!” Farah called out as she approached, carrying a few boxes in front of her. “You want to come give me a hand?” 

“With what?” Amanda asked with a cautious smile. 

“Lydia’s been baking. She was worried we’d somehow starve over the course of a day.” Farah looked pointedly at the cargo she carried. 

“Holy heck yes,” Amanda grinned. “Is the car by admin?” 

“You bet.” Farah put the boxes down and jogged to catch up to Amanda. “There’s some nut and gluten-free specials in the red boxes but the rest are regular. They’ve all got enough sugar to keep the kids bouncing til midnight.” 

“Maybe we should work out a ration system?” Amanda lifted a couple of boxes and waited for Farah before heading back in. “Like, three for me, one for the kids, kind of thing?” 

“You’d get diabetes before lunch. Trust me.” 

Peeking through the clear sides of some of the containers, Amanda felt her mouth water. “It’ll be worth it. Seriously, we need to hide these.” 

“How about the office?” 

“Good plan.” 

Farah led the way to the little office off the side of the hall and started the cake pyramid. “Listen, about the other night.” 

“What other night?” 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. With Martin. I mean, what you do is your own business, and definitely not my business, but office relationships are usually a bad idea. Especially if Wilson finds out.” Farah was struggling to maintain eye contact. 

Amanda laughed as her cheeks went pink. “About the only thing you interrupted was my paranoid downward spiral.” 

“Huh?” 

Amanda looked around conspiratorially. “Liking someone is like being fifteen all over again. I am instantly transported back to being an awkward bumbling teenager, rather than the slightly more together adult façade I have going for me these days.” 

“Being an adult is an elaborate scam. I’m pretty sure we’re all still those awkward teen versions of ourselves inside.” Farah smiled tightly. “At least, that’s what I tell myself when I’m too nervous to remember my own name.” 

“I like it,” Amanda returned the smile, “it definitely makes me feel better.” 

“Amanda?” Someone called out from the hall. 

With a puzzled frown Amanda headed toward the voice. “Dirk, hey. How’s it going?” 

“Can I talk to you for a moment? Outside?” Dirk asked quietly. 

Casting a glance at Farah, Amanda nodded, following Dirk out the door. “What’s going on?” 

Dirk took a deep breath. “I need a favour.” 

“What kind of favour?” 

“The kind of favour where you talk to Todd about what’s going on.” Dirk smiled hopefully as Todd walked toward the hall. “You’re working yourself into the ground and I know you need help with the music. You can’t be everywhere at once.” 

“I’m going to meetings, Amanda,” Todd said, trying to smile, “I haven’t made a bet in over a week. One step at a time.” 

“You have to be kidding me.” Amanda shook her head. 

“I’ll supervise him!” Dirk offered. “I’ll make sure he’s never left alone with anything that might tempt him. I promise this will work out, Amanda. Please trust me.” 

Amanda glowered. 

A group of students arrived and called out a variety of greetings to the teachers, and were apparently very happy to see Todd back. 

“Mister Brotzman! Sir, did you decide to come back?” 

“Sir, have you heard us lately? We sound pretty good!” 

“I need help with the harmonies sir, are you staying?” 

Amanda wanted to punch her brother right in his lying face. She glanced after the students, still waving at Todd, and sighed. “Fine,” she said quietly, “but only if Dirk or someone else is watching you twenty-four-seven, ok?” 

“Anything you say,” Todd replied with a relieved smile. 

“You are now in negative chances, ok? Don’t make me regret this.” Amanda scowled. 

“I’ll watch him Amanda. You can trust me.” Dirk nodded. 

Amanda looked at her brother for a long moment. “What does it say about you that I trust him, but not you?” 

“Everything ok?” 

Amanda looked behind her to see Martin and Cross walking in. “Hey,” she greeted, smiling in spite of herself. 

“What’s going on?” Cross asked. He glared at Todd. 

“Todd is coming back on board, but only under strict supervision.” Amanda returned her glare to her brother. “If he’s not with Dirk, I want one of you to watch him, ok? Todd is not to go anywhere on his own.” 

“We can do that.” Martin smiled coldly at Todd. 

“Thanks Amanda.” Todd tried. 

“Do not thank me. It’s not for you.” Amanda sighed. “Somehow, the kids love you. They deserve a great music teacher to help them be the best they can be for this show. It’s a shame you’re such a shit person.” She clenched her jaw. “We’re going through the opening number from ten. You’ll be with me for that. I’ll meet you inside.” 

Todd and Dirk took the hint and left. 

“Cross, can you keep an eye on them for me? I’ll be right in.” Amanda asked. 

“Definitely. Permission to punch him if he does something shady?” 

“Permission granted. Just do it where the kids won’t see.” 

Cross grinned and loped inside. 

“You sure about this?” Martin asked. He was clearly unimpressed. 

“No.” Amanda sighed. “But those kids need more help than I can give them. Besides, he said he’s going to meetings.” 

“You believe him?” 

“I do. He looks less, I don’t know, haunted.” 

Martin nodded. “I’ll give him that. But the minute he screws up again he’s out on his ass, and I’ll kick him myself.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You can count on me. I won’t let you down.” Martin’s vivid gaze held hers. 

“I wish we weren’t on school grounds right now.” Amanda said softly. Her face immediately flushed. 

Martin huffed a small laugh. “Me, too.” 

A chattering gaggle of students came barrelling around the side of the hall, utterly destroying the moment. Amanda stifled a laugh. “Morning everyone.” 

A chorus of “Hi Miss!” was called out as the kids went inside. 

“Why don’t they say hello to you?” Amanda asked. 

“My senior kids do but the juniors are still mostly afraid of me.” Martin shrugged. “Should we go in?” 

Amanda sighed, feeling just a little frustrated. “Probably. There’s one hell of a surprise for lunch. I hope you like cake.” They headed into the hall. 

“Cake is ok, I guess?” 

“Woah, what? Who doesn’t like cake? I don’t know if this is going to work out.” 

“You’ll never have to fight me for the last slice. I think it’s a good omen.” 

Amanda looked at Martin contemplatively. “That’s a good point.” 

With one last quick smile Martin headed toward the stage to intimidate some grade sevens away from the prepared set. Excited students surrounded Todd and Dirk, Cross glared from the mixing desk, and Farah was taking a few of the von Trapps through stretches. Vogle and Gripps arrived just in time for the practice. 

Calling everyone to attention, Amanda kicked off the rehearsal. Maria, aka Jennifer, belted out the title song with enviable confidence. The backdrops looked incredible and the entire first act was unmarred by ill-functioning sets. The stage crew, under Dirk’s flailing direction, barely dropped anything at all. Amanda sat in the front row with her scribble-strewn script on her knees, prompting a few times and calling out forgotten cues. 

The end of the first act signalled the day’s first break. Amanda and Farah carefully arranged about half the cakes on a table by the office door for them to be demolished by the cast and crew. 

“You guys need a break?” Amanda asked the manual arts teachers. Each of them nodded with just a hint of desperation. “I’ll meet you at your staffroom. Farah?” 

“Yeah?” Farah headed toward Amanda through the crowds. 

“I’m heading out for a smoke break,” Amanda said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

“Those things will kill you.” 

“Maybe, but at least I won’t be stressed.” Amanda grinned, grabbed a cupcake, and headed outside. 

Martin was waiting by the door and smiled when he saw the cake in her hands. “That is a weird ass shade of blue.” 

“It means the sugar content is going to be mega high.” Amanda took a careful bite of icing and nodded. “Yep. This is teeth-rotting quality right here. You sure you don’t want some?” 

Martin shook his head. “I need a cigarette.” 

“I need a drink.” Amanda sighed. 

“After rehearsal?” 

Looking up at Martin while they walked, Amanda hated her life bitterly. “I can’t, I’m drowning in work,” Amanda sighed heavily. “I’m behind on classwork and there’s still so much to do on the show.” 

“Anythin’ I can help with?” 

“I’ll let you know?” 

They reached the staffroom and Martin opened the door for her. “Keep me posted.” 

After an annoyingly short break the rest of the afternoon flew by. The dress rehearsal was definitely a learning curve. A few costume changes weren’t working properly and Maria’s wedding dress was an absolute nightmare. Scene changes needed to be tightened, drastically, and kids needed a better idea about who was responsible for which props going on stage. 

Sitting at the mixing desk with her script in front of her, Amanda was still making notes as the kids filed out. She made sure to smile and wave whenever one of them said goodbye. The teachers kept on with cleaning up, Amanda so focussed on her work that she didn’t notice Dirk right beside her until he spoke. 

“That went well, I thought.” 

Amanda jumped. “Dirk, hi. Yeah, it wasn’t too bad.” She glanced at her notes. “Just a few things to tidy up.” 

“It’s coming together beautifully.” Dirk insisted with a smile. “Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? Todd’s cooking.” 

Amanda looked out across the hall and caught Martin’s eye. She found herself blushing just a bit before remembering the conversation at hand. “I can’t tonight, sorry. Maybe next weekend?” 

Dirk looked at her with a worryingly knowing expression. 

“What?” 

“You and Todd blush the exact same shade of pink.” 

Amanda blinked. “How do you know what Todd looks like when-?” 

“Dinner next weekend then?” Dirk asked brightly. 

“Uh, sure.” 

“Excellent.” 

There was a pause. “We’re probably done cleaning up, if you wanted to head off.” 

“Great! See you on Monday.” Dirk beamed and collected Todd from the edge of the stage. They walked out together, quite closely, if Amanda was any judge. 

Martin strolled over to Amanda, half a smile across his bearded face. “You want anythin’ else done before we head off?” 

“No thanks,” Amanda smiled, “you guys have done way more than I could have hoped. You’ve saved my ass.” 

“I’ll see you next week?” Martin tried not to think about Amanda’s arse, saved or otherwise. 

“See you Monday.” 

With one last smile Martin rounded up the manual arts teachers and they left. 

Amanda sighed and finally put her work away. She found Farah in the office with half a cupcake in her hand. The other half was likely stuffed in her very full cheeks. Amanda tried not to smile. 

“Make sure you tell Lydia that she single-handedly saved the day.” Amanda instructed, helping herself to another slice. 

Farah swallowed her mouthful and looked a little embarrassed. “Honestly, I’m glad they were a hit. Otherwise they just sit on the kitchen bench and I eat them all. I know they’re bad for me, but goddamn if that icing doesn’t hit the spot.” 

“It’s essentially just creamed butter and sugar isn’t it.” 

“Yes. Yes it is.” 

Amanda took a bite and sighed happily. “Perfection. I’m ready to get out of here, how about you?” 

“Oh yeah. We’re back in here on Monday right?” 

“Yes, which means I have the whole of Sunday off – to work on this. I can’t wait.” Amanda finished her cake quickly. “Let’s go before I think of something else to do.” 

*

Amanda woke up to the painful screeching of her alarm. Anything less than full-on noise and she just slept straight through, and that morning Amanda could really have done with another few hours of rest. Her head hurt and her throat was dry. With a heartfelt moan Amanda put her pillow over her head; of course she’d get sick a week before opening night. 

Moving through her morning routine at glacial pace, Amanda tried not to think about how much her throat hurt. Her limbs felt like jelly and the prospect of sitting on her motorbike in the very crisp morning air had all the appeal of a root canal. Checking through her list of options Amanda immediately discounted Todd. She was still mad at him and certainly wasn’t about to ask for a ride to work. Farah was out of the way and Amanda had no idea where Dirk lived. She sighed. ‘Damsel in distress’ had never been her style but she was out of options. 

*

With a slice of toast stuck in his mouth and only half-dressed, Martin managed to answer his phone after a couple of rings. “Amanda?” He mumbled around the toast. 

“Hey,” Amanda croaked, “can I ask yet another favour?” 

Martin pulled the toast from his mouth. “What’s up? You sound like shit.” 

“Thanks. Can I beg a ride to work? I cannot get on the bike right now.” 

“Yeah, no worries. Text me your address.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, I’m on the way, kind of.” 

“Don’t worry, I got it. I’ll be about half an hour?” 

“I’ll see you then.” Amanda hung up and sent through the address a minute later. 

Pausing for a moment, Martin hurriedly finished getting dressed and rushed to his ute. Emptying the front seat of the light layer of trash was the work of minutes and largely involved shovelling everything into the back. He checked the time; if he left immediately there’d be time to get takeaway coffee on the way to Amanda’s. 

*

Pulling up outside the old house Martin texted. _Out front. You alive?_

_Barely_. Amanda emerged a moment later, rugged up and clearly exhausted. She trudged down the staircase and wearily climbed into the ute. “Morning.” 

“Morning,” Martin handed her a cup of coffee, “I got this on the way. Double shot cappuccino and the milk didn’t scream.” 

“Are you making a habit out of saving my ass?” Amanda laughed, cradling the cup in both hands. “Can you test it for me? Takeaway lids make it hard to tell the temperature.” 

Martin took the cup back and sipped the drink. “Too hot. Wait til we get to work.” 

Amanda sighed. “I thought so. I’m still gonna hold it, I’m cold.” 

Giving the cup over Martin put the ute in gear and drove. “You want the heat up?” 

“No thanks,” Amanda smelled her coffee, “I don’t want to risk an episode.” 

“You definitely sound like shit.” 

“You’re so kind,” Amanda said sarcastically. She coughed. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got cold and flu pills coming out of my ears and with enough caffeine I’ll get through this. As long as the kids don’t get sick. Remind me to get a jar of honey for the green room, just in case.” 

Martin drank his coffee as he drove. “We’re nearly done with this damn show, right?” 

“Mm-hmm. How many times have you dreamt about it?” 

“The musical? Too many.” Martin looked at her sideways. “You? Not enough.” 

Amanda felt her face warming up and she stared out the window, grinning. “Smooth.” 

Martin grinned. “How full on is your class load today?” 

“Only about eighty per cent,” Amanda groaned, “if you find me passed out before last period, just leave me to die. Please.” 

“No way, those kids would fall apart without you. Seriously,” Martin laughed at Amanda’s scoffing, “they’re loving it, but it all revolves around _you_.” 

“It’s been a hell of a ride. I’m sad it’s almost over.” 

Martin looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Me, too. No encouragement from Wilson I take it?” 

“Nope.” Amanda bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. “I still wouldn’t change anything. I mean, don’t ask me after the holidays when I’ve been living on instant noodles and had my power cut, but for right now, it was worth it.” 

Martin chuckled. “Your power ever gets cut, you know where I live. You got a standing invitation.” 

“I might just take you up on that.” 

They drove into the school car park and Martin cut the engine. “You want another taste test?” He looked at the coffee cup in Amanda’s hand. She passed him the cup and Martin took a small mouthful before giving it back. “You should be right.” 

Taking a cautious sip Amanda sighed happily. “Perfect.” 

“Let me know when you want to head home. I’ll take you whenever.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, obviously. Even if you don’t make it til last period. If I’m in class I can get someone to cover long enough to give you a ride.” Martin looked at her closely. “I’ll bet you don’t make it til lunch.” 

“Bet I do,” Amanda coughed, “if I make it til the end of last period you owe me a pizza.” 

“You’re on. Let’s get this over with.” Martin got out of the car and made it around to Amanda’s side before she’d even picked up her bag. He opened her door with a smile. 

“I got it,” Amanda insisted, sliding out of the high vehicle. She stumbled a little on the way down. “Oh lord I’m gonna die.” 

“Focus on that victory pizza,” Martin suggested. 

Standing still with her eyes shut, Amanda sighed. “I don’t know that pizza is worth this.” She opened her eyes. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“No worries. Come by the staffroom when you’re ready to go.” Martin took half a step closer to her before remembering himself. “Come on.” 

Amanda trudged on to her staffroom, waving a weary farewell to Martin when they parted ways. 

Teaching while sick was always next level painful. The effort it took to whip up class plans for substitute teachers never seemed worth it; by the time the makeshift plans were done you may as well have just come in and done it yourself anyway. 

Sitting through a department meeting added an awful new level of misery to Amanda’s life. She didn’t actually fall asleep but there was definitely an awful lot of vacant staring. Playground duty was out of the question and Dirk kindly volunteered to cover her block instead. Amanda seriously considered a nap under desk. 

Last period saw Amanda begin to succumb to the illness clouding her mind. Her grade nines got a DVD class, always a winner amongst kids, and Amanda sat at the back of the room with half an eye on the students. The final bell startled Amanda and she hustled the kids out of the room. 

“You alright miss?” One of the kids asked. 

“Fine, fine,” Amanda forced a smile, “I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow.” 

“Bye miss!” 

Amanda packed up and made her way to the manual arts staffroom. Her head pounded and every time she swallowed it was like razors down her throat. Pushing the door open and finding the room empty, Amanda headed straight for the couch. She curled up in the corner of it and closed her eyes. 

“Hey Manda. Wake up.” 

“Mm.” Amanda mumbled, trying to roll over. She couldn’t move and her neck hurt. With a frown and a grumble Amanda opened her eyes slowly. “What?” 

“Looks like I owe you a pizza.” Martin joked, crouching by the sofa. “You ready to go home?” 

“Oh shit, what time is it?” 

“Not even four, don’t worry. I’d carry you to the car but it’d get back to Wilson and neither of us need that drama.” 

Amanda smiled drowsily. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fine, just tired. I need sleep.” 

“Sleep it is. C’mon.” Martin stood and offered her a hand up. Amanda took it and stretched. 

The ride home was uneventful, largely because Amanda was too exhausted and her throat too sore to speak. Pulling up outside her place Martin once again raced around to open her door. This time he helped Amanda climb down. 

“Do you need anythin’ else before I go?” Martin asked. 

Amanda put her bag over one shoulder and smiled. “No, you’ve done way more than enough. I swear once this musical is done and I’m done feeling like shit, I’ll shower you with pizzas and whiskey. I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” 

Martin shook his head. “I lost today’s bet. I owe _you_ a pizza.” 

“We’ll settle it when I can remember what day of the week it is,” Amanda laughed. “If I live through the night can I get another lift tomorrow?” 

“I’ll call you in the morning?” 

Amanda nodded. “Talk to you then.” She smiled and turned toward home, wishing she felt less like reheated death. 

*

The buzzing of Amanda’s phone vibrating on the table eventually woke her. Throwing a hand out she tapped the screen to turn off the alarm. After a few confusing seconds of tapping and continued vibrating, Amanda picked up the phone to see Martin calling. 

“The hell time d’you call this?” She mumbled, her mouth thick with sleep. 

“So you ain’t a mornin’ person.” 

Amanda rubbed her eyes and groaned. “I’m not dead then.” 

“Don’t sound like it. How you feelin’?” 

“Like I should be dead.” Amanda coughed. “Oh god, what time is it?” 

Martin laughed a little. “If I leave now and get coffee, you’ve got about half an hour and we’ll still be on time for work. Just.” 

“Goddamn.” Amanda sat up with a groan to assess the messages from her body. “My throat doesn’t hurt as much.” 

“You’re practically healed!” Martin joked. “I’ll see you in half an hour?” 

“You bet.” Amanda hung up the phone and smiled. 

By some miracle Amanda managed to drag her sickly body around her flat to get ready and was walking out the door as Martin arrived. He got out of the ute and approached her. 

“What’re you doing?” Amanda asked. “Aren’t we running late?” 

“Maybe,” Martin shrugged, looking at her over the top of his glasses. He stepped in close. “Your eyes are less glassy than yesterday but you still look sick. Did you eat breakfast?” 

“Not hungry.” 

“There’s muffins in the car. C’mon.” Martin opened Amanda’s door for her and waited for her to climb in. 

Rolling her eyes Amanda picked up the takeaway bag on the dash. She waited for Martin to get in before opening it; inside were two of the biggest muffins she’d ever seen, one chocolate and one blueberry. “Wow, these look amazing.” 

“I didn’t want you to miss out on either one so I got both. You still doin’ rehearsals tonight?” 

Amanda took a bite out of the chocolate one with a happy sigh. “Absolutely. Clearly I hate myself.” 

“Or you’re just tryin’ to prove the whole ‘show must go on’ thing.” Martin suggested. 

“Oh please, like I have the brain capacity to think that far ahead right now.” 

Martin grinned. “If I don’t see you during the day I’ll be by the hall after last period. There’s always somethin’ to do isn’t there?” 

“ _Always_.” Amanda sighed as they arrived at school, finally picking up her coffee to drink. 

Opening Amanda’s door and watching her stagger on, Martin wished he could just take her right home again. “It don’t feel right watchin’ you try and work like this,” he grumbled, following her. 

“It’s not worth the effort for a fill in teacher, you know that. Besides I feel better than yesterday.” 

Martin snorted in very articulate disbelief. 

“Seriously!” Amanda laughed, oblivious to the stares of other staff members than saw them arriving together. “I can actually swallow my own saliva without wanting to cry. Progress.” 

“If you say so.” 

“For now. There’s still so much time to crash and burn before tonight.” Amanda grinned, a flash of her regular self showing through. 

Martin smiled. “Good luck.” 

“Bye,” Amanda held the muffin bag, “and thanks for these.” She went to her staffroom to enjoy a lukewarm coffee and delicious muffin before the day of work ahead. Amanda couldn’t remember the last time anyone had been so casually thoughtful and she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. 

*

Somewhat predictably, sickness swept the musical. 

In the days leading up to opening night the kids fell ill like dominos and the teachers were close behind. Farah coughed incessantly and Amanda was endlessly glad that she could at least speak without expiring. An unfortunate turn of events that meant Amanda’s nose leaked more than a busted tap and she lived with a box of tissues sticky-taped to her script. 

Amanda watched Dirk and Todd get sick within twelve hours of each other and made a mental note to interrogate them later. Cross, Vogle and Gripps were sick by the end of the week, each of them coughing and sniffling around the rigging and scenery. By opening night even Martin was sounding huskier than usual. Amanda made gallons of sweet honey tea for them all to drink while they worked; few things had ever made her smile as much as handing a cracked kitten mug of tea to a manual arts HOD with earrings and resting bitch face. 

In the hours before the curtain went up on their first performance, Amanda made last minute inspections of every prop on stage, and in the wings, and in the green room. Dirk, as de facto stage manager, hovered and helped, pulling handkerchief after handkerchief from his pockets to blow his ever snuffling nose. He honked. 

“I sure hope you can keep that under control during the show,” Amanda joked with her own nose-blowing accompaniment. 

“You’ll find me with snot streaming down my face before I make a sound during the show!” Dirk insisted. 

“Good to know. I’m glad it’s gonna be dark back there.” 

Dirk smiled. “I’m so excited, you’ve _no_ idea. Have you given much thought to your plans for next term?” 

Amanda sighed. “What plans? There’s a week of term left after our last show and I highly doubt that Wilson is going to use that time to write me a glowing review.” 

“There’s hope yet, Amanda,” Dirk tried. 

“Hope for the next Ice Age, sure.” 

“You know, you and Todd share a very similar ‘everything is hopeless’ kind of attitude.” 

“We’re related, Dirk. Much as it pains me to admit it, we have a lot in common. I mean, I don’t steal from my family and lie about it, but hey.” 

“He has the most incredible stress insomnia about what happened.” 

Amanda had her mouth half-open to reply before she realised what Dirk actually said. “How would you know about his sleeping habits?” 

After a moment of mildly panicked stalling, Dirk tried, “friends talk to each other about these things?” 

“Friends might, but the colour of your ears says otherwise.” Amanda laughed. “You know he’s a terrible person, Dirk. What are you doing?” 

Dirk sighed happily and stared off into the distance. The whimsy of the moment was somewhat ruined by the goat puppet he held in his hands and the cracked skin around his nose. “Todd is the kind of person who really comes through for people who matter to him. After a false start or two, perhaps, but in the end he ends up where he’s meant to be.” 

“With you?” 

“Maybe.” Dirk attempted coy. 

“Whatever.” Amanda resumed her prop checking. 

“Do you ever think you and Todd will be friends again?” 

“I don’t know, Dirk. That kind of betrayal doesn’t have a tidy timeline of forgiveness.” Amanda sighed. “I think we’re done with these props, let’s hit up costumes.”


	10. Chapter 10

Kids filled the hall with excited chatter. A few of the unwell von Trapp children were practically coating their throats with honey and quietly practicing scales with the ones that, so far, remained healthy.

Farah was helping another group of students warm up and gently plying everyone with cake. Lydia had been baking again and Amanda was letting the kids have at the sweets with no restraints. The sick ones needed the energy and the healthy ones needed the motivation. 

Eventually Amanda hustled everyone backstage to prepare the hall for their first proper audience. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and the cold and flu meds were definitely helping. Standing in the almost empty space, Amanda couldn’t keep from grinning. The stage was perfectly set and ready. 

“You need a sixth cup of coffee?” Martin asked from the office. 

“Need? No. Want desperately? Definitely.” Amanda headed for him and the offered cup. “How’s your throat?” 

“I’ll live.” 

“You’ll live longer if you drink some honey tea.” Amanda tried to be stern. 

“I do not believe you.” Martin sighed, coughed, and reluctantly made himself a cup of tea. “Are you nervous?” 

“Absolutely. I might die of anxiety at this point.” 

“You got this. You’ve worked too hard not to.” 

Amanda looked at him and for once wasn’t worried about surprise spinach in her teeth. She smiled. “You’re really good at making things better.” 

“I try.” Martin met her eyes for a long moment, half a smile on his face. The clanging hall doors interrupted his train of thought and Martin glared out the office door. 

Amanda stuck her head out into the hall. “Oh god, they’re coming in.” She turned to Martin, her expression hopeless. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” 

“Break a leg.” Martin said, getting a smile from Amanda before she hurried off. 

*

The opening strains of ‘The sound of music’ filled the hall and Amanda, behind her lectern in the wings, gave the first cue over her headset. Maria strolled on stage, her arms wide, and sang like a damn angel. Amanda took a moment to appreciate the perfection of those notes before turning back to her script. She gave cues, told Dirk to hustle the nuns up on stage, and directed the light changes as the scene moved on. 

There was only the mildest of fumbling with the occasional prop and by some theatrical miracle no one forgot their lines. The Captain even managed to dance fairly smoothly with Maria and Amanda saw Farah’s triumphant wiggle in the opposite wing. 

*

Closing night came around faster than it had a right to. Two weeks of shows, including matinee performances, had left everyone involved absolutely exhausted but exuberant. Amanda was finally well again just in time to watch the remaining cast fall ill; she kept up the excessive amount of tea distribution and Lydia apparently wouldn’t stop baking, no matter how much Farah begged. 

A new kind of energy came over the cast for the last night. The last rush of performing hit the kids and they pulled out everything they had for one last show. 

By the time intermission came around the students were even more bananas than usual, being next level silly with one another backstage. Amanda and the others tried to pull them back into line without much success and she needed a time out. Taking the day’s fifth cup of coffee Amanda went outside and wished she could leave for a cigarette. Instead she loitered in the shadows on the side of the hall, out of sight of the crowds. Or so she thought. 

“Amanda Brotzman?” 

Turning around with a hint of panic in her gut, Amanda fixed a smile to her face. “Yes? Can I help you?” 

“Hi, I’m Melinda Hayworth. Travis’s mum. It’s great to meet you.” The woman smiled, her whole demeanour relaxed and friendly. 

“Melinda, hi,” Amanda reached out to shake her hand, “thanks so much for coming along. Travis has really had a great time with this, I know it means a lot that you’re here.” 

“I wanted to thank you,” Melinda said warmly, “Travis has always struggled to engage but something about this experience has just,” she sighed, “it’s changed him. I’ve never seen him this switched on with school. It’s really incredible.” 

Amanda blinked back happy tears. “I’m really, really pleased to hear that.” 

“Travis says you’re not staying on for next term?” 

“I’m only on contract and the principal has made it clear that I won’t be getting renewed.” Amanda tried not to cry. 

Melinda frowned. “That’s ridiculous. You’re clearly a very talented teacher.” 

“Well, I certainly like to think so.” 

“That’s a real shame,” Melinda said quietly, “I’m so sorry. Look, I’ve got to get back, but it’s been so lovely to meet you. And thanks again for whatever wonders you worked with my son.” 

Amanda smiled as Melinda went back inside. Moments like those reminded her of why she put herself through the ridiculousness of a huge musical in the first place. 

Taking a minute in the cold night air with warm coffee, Amanda leaned against the side of the hall. Her peace was ruined by the nightmarish visage of Principal Wilson, smiling with all the charm of a rotting reptile. 

“Amanda, just the woman I was looking for.” 

“Looks like you found me.” Amanda forced a smile. “What can I do for you?” 

“I just wanted to let you know, you should clear out your desk tonight when you’ve finished here. There’s no need for you to come in for the last week.” Wilson abandoned her attempt at pleasant. “Thank you for your service but we won’t be requiring that you extend your time with us.” 

Amanda felt her stomach drop. “Are you kidding?” 

Dirk and Todd appeared from the gloom to interrupt Wilson’s reply. The pair of them looked ill but determined. “I’m afraid she isn’t, Amanda,” Dirk announced, “but we have something that might help.” 

“What is this, the busiest part of the ‘out-of-bounds’ area?” Amanda muttered. “What are you talking about Dirk? If you don’t mind, I’m in the middle of getting fired and I’d really rather just get it over with.” 

“You might want to reconsider?” Dirk looked at Wilson. “Between the evidence we’ve gathered about your budgeting abilities, which appear to be quite considerable in terms of ripping off the school, as well as the overt racism and homophobia experienced by staff here, _as well as_ the totally unfair firing of Amanda,” Dirk took a breath, “ _you_ might want to pack _your_ things.” 

Wilson fixed cold eyes on Dirk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

With a cautious smile, Todd held up an iPhone speaker. He tapped at his phone screen and waited. 

“Todd, what is this?” Amanda asked. 

“Just listen,” Todd said quietly. 

After a moment Amanda heard the voices through the speaker. 

It was Wilson. _“I see. Perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement. Tell me everything about the musical. If the information you give me helps form grounds to not renew Amanda’s contract, then perhaps I can help you out with your debts. If you continue to help me with any little problems that might arise around the school, the arrangement could become more permanent. And potentially more lucrative.”_

_“Just so we’re clear, I tell you information that will hurt Amanda’s career, and there might be some financial compensation in it for me.”_

_“Precisely.”_

Amanda stared at Todd, her heart pounding. 

“We set her up,” Todd explained, looking from Amanda to Wilson. “We set her up to catch her in the act of doing something illegal. Don’t you see? She can’t fire you now. She never really could, but now she definitely can’t.” 

“I don’t know how to feel right now,” Amanda muttered. 

Wilson lifted her chin and glared. “I don’t know what you think you have there but it is circumstantial. And potentially slanderous.” 

“What we have,” Dirk insisted, “is enough to get you fired. But if you renew Amanda’s contract and leave before the end of term, we can make all of this go away. We’ll pretend like it never happened.” 

Amanda wanted to protest but Todd tried to signal her to be quiet. Much as it burned to trust her brother she stayed silent and watched Wilson think. Was that a hint of fear in the principal’s eyes? 

“We can prove you stole thousands of dollars from the school,” Todd offered, “and we can prove you’re a horrific racist and homophobe. Those last two may not be fireable offenses but who’s going to want to work with you?” 

Wilson stared them down for a moment longer before relenting. “I’ll have Amanda’s paperwork signed by Monday.” 

“You’ll do it tonight, and email the department, BCC’ing all three of us in on that email. And if you try and get out of it?” Todd glared. “I’ll release everything. Every single bit of dirt we have on you. And it’s a lot.” 

“Fine.” Wilson grimaced. “Tonight.” She glared at all of them. “I hope you’re prepared to live with the consequences of your actions.” 

“I’ll have lawyers coming out of my arse before you can say ‘libel’,” Todd sneered. “We’re not scared of you.” 

“That could be your biggest mistake.” Wilson turned on her heel and left. 

Amanda kept staring at Dirk and Todd. “What just happened.” 

Dirk sagged, relieved. “Wow, what a rush!” He rested a hand on Todd’s shoulder in a most familiar fashion. “Oh my god I think I need a drink.” 

“That would make two of us. To repeat, _what just happened?_ ” Amanda tried again. 

“I think we got your contract renewed?” Todd grinned. 

“Yeah, after selling me out to Wilson! That’s why you wanted back on the show!” 

“No, Amanda, it was all a trick.” Todd insisted. “I fed her total lies. Everything I said to her was a lie. It was all to catch her out so you could stay. And it worked!” 

Amanda reeled. “And what was all that other stuff? About budgets and bigotry?” 

“Farah and Lydia hired me,” Dirk explained, “to get proof of Wilson’s awful ways. I’ve been working over the term to try and get evidence for them but nothing really came together until Todd and I started working together.” Dirk smiled fondly at his partner. “Really the budget thing was just a footnote until we realised how deep it went.” 

Sipping her coffee, Amanda tried to process everything. “So wait, you’re just going to get me a job for next term and get her to leave and then that’s it? Wilson just, she just gets away with everything?” 

“Of course not,” Todd smirked, “once we get the confirmation email tonight we’re going to contact the department with everything. She’s so getting fired.” 

“I need a minute.” Amanda wandered off, deep in thought. 

Todd leaned into Dirk as he watched his sister leave. “I thought she’d be happier.” 

“We’ve dropped a lot of information on her at once, Todd. Best let her process it all before you go doom-and-glooming the situation.” Dirk placed a soft kiss on Todd’s cheek while they stood in near-darkness. “Come on, there’s the second act to go yet.” 

“I’m so glad I never have to hear ‘The lonely goatherd’ ever again.” 

“You know, I rather liked that number. _High on the hill was a lonely goatherd_ -” 

Todd drove his elbow into Dirk’s side to cut him off mid-yodel. 

*

Amanda forced recent events from her mind to focus on the second act, pushing and pulling the musical through its final performance. As ‘Climb every mountain’ finished up and the curtain fell, Amanda slumped over her lectern. The stress of the last few weeks, of the musical and her impending unemployment, combined with sheer exhaustion and potentially way too much caffeine, meant Amanda had tears spilling down her face. She wiped them away and encouraged the cast out on stage for their encore, clapping and cheering hugely. 

“Your turn, miss!” Travis shouted, running from the stage to grab Amanda’s jacket sleeve and drag her out into the light. 

Squinting under lights and ready to explode of happiness, Amanda tried to graciously accept the rapturous applause that filled the hall. When various von Trapp children emerged from the wings carrying flowers and gifts for her and the other teachers, Amanda couldn’t quite stop a few tears from falling. Farah, Dirk and Todd were all dragged out on stage and festooned with gifts. The manual arts teachers stuck their heads out from the wings for a wave, and the cast applauded the stage crew and lighting and sound desk. 

Waving until her arm felt like it was going to fall off, Amanda eventually persuaded the crew to lower the curtain for real. She laughed as the kids immediately started congratulating each other and dancing around with relief. 

“Congratulations everyone!” Amanda called out. “I am so, so proud of you. All of you. You have all done such amazing things and you should all be,” she sniffed, “you should all be really proud of everything you’ve achieved here.” 

“And Miss Brotzman has some extra good news,” Dirk called out, holding up his phone, “she’ll be staying on for next term after all!” 

The kids cheered and whistled and Amanda bit her lip to keep from crying. Across the crowd, the manual arts teachers were cheering the loudest, Martin grinning from ear to ear. 

“Go on you lot, get out of costumes and makeup. I think you’ve got an after party to get to?” Amanda shooed them away with her free hand, the other holding the most ridiculously huge bunch of flowers she’d ever seen. A basket of some kind was at her feet and she was too overwhelmed to look into it. Martin made his way to her and Amanda couldn’t keep the smile from her face. 

“You’re staying? How?” Martin asked, looking slightly bewildered. 

Amanda thought the expression suited him. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you over dinner?” 

“Or maybe we should have our own after party?” 

“Hell yes,” Amanda grinned. 

“Party at Martin’s!” Vogle announced. Amanda hadn’t even noticed him approaching. “Who’s invited?” 

“Well,” Amanda smiled up at Martin, “I think it’s only fair to invite all the teachers, don’t you?” 

“Even your jerk brother?” Gripps asked sceptically. 

“Yeah. Even him.” Amanda looked over at Todd, sitting on the lounge suite with flowers in his arms. “I need to thank him somehow, and being in the same room is probably about all I can deal with.” 

“Thank him for what?” Martin glared over at the unassuming man. 

“I’ll explain, I promise. For now I just want to clean up enough for tonight and get out of here. Can you help me get this to the car? I’m glad you gave me a lift this morning.” Amanda looked at her armloads of gifts with a pleased sigh. 

They packed up the hall and saw all the kids out, Amanda looking over her shoulder just once as she walked with Martin to his car. 

“You gonna miss it?” Martin asked as they got in the ute. 

“Yes and no,” Amanda juggled the flowers and basket and her bag. “Oh my god I nearly _died_ when they handed over all this stuff! Did I already mention how glad I am that you gave me a ride today?” 

“I can give you a ride every day next week. And next term.” 

Amanda grinned. “We’ll see. I do love my bike, y’know.” 

“Oh I know.” 

“I still owe Vogle a ride, too.” 

“Don’t remind him, I’m beggin’ you.” 

Amanda laughed, “he’ll be fine.” 

As Martin drove Amanda explained the Wilson ruse, including Todd’s white lies to her and eventually confronting Wilson with all the evidence. Martin struggled to keep his eyes on the road. 

“You’re _kiddin’_.” Martin said eventually. “He did all that to help you get your job back?” 

“And to help Farah prove workplace bullying. And some incidental fraud apparently.” 

“That’s,” Martin paused, “that’s just somethin’ else. You want to know a secret?” 

“I guess?” 

“Wilson let us smoke in our staffroom coz she accidentally sent an email to Gripps that was clearly meant for someone else. He decided to use it as leverage for ongoing smoke breaks. It wasn’t quite enough to get her fired though.” 

“What kind of email?” 

“A racist kind. She’s a shit person.” 

“And no longer our problem. I can’t believe it.” 

Martin grinned. “The possibilities are endless.” 

They pulled up in Martin’s driveway and Amanda attempted to move under the piles of stuff on her lap. “Can I leave some of this in here? And then is it ok if you bring this by my place tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow?” Martin cut the engine and turned to look at her. 

“Uh, yeah. You mind if I stay the night?” Amanda asked, her cheeks turning slightly pink. 

Martin grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

With a smile Amanda leaned over the flowers to rest a hand on Martin’s shoulder and kissed him softly. His beard tickled her face but there was no sensory overload; Amanda sighed happily as the kiss deepened. Martin cupped her face in his hand, his warm fingers tracing along Amanda’s jaw to bury into her hair. 

A honking car startled them apart. Laughing, they turned to see another car pulling into the driveway. 

His hand moving to the nape of Amanda’s neck, Martin kissed her again briefly. “Should we go inside?” 

Amanda nodded. She brushed a thumb along Martin’s cheek where skin met beard. “I was worried about the beard.” 

“I’m glad I don’t have to shave it off.” Martin admitted. “You worried about anythin’ else?” 

“Nope.” 

“Does skin on skin contact make you do the overload thing?” 

“Nope.” 

Martin narrowed his eyes with a smile. “So I can touch you like normal and it won’t hurt you?” 

“It won’t hurt me, but we can _definitely_ make sure.” Amanda smiled and leaned in to kiss him. The car honked again and Amanda pulled back, laughing. “Come on.” Amanda left the flowers and gifts behind as she climbed out of the ute and waved at the car behind them. 

With a relieved smile that was quickly replaced with one of actual ridiculous happiness, Martin followed her. He waved at the boys piling out of Cross’s car before approaching Amanda. 

“You ready?” Martin asked quietly. He stood close to Amanda and waited, almost holding his breath. 

Amanda took his hand in hers and looked over to the cottage fence line where Hugo was barking excitedly. She could just about see his head jumping up from behind the fence and smiled. “Yeah, let’s go put Hugo out of his misery.” 

“The musical is finally over!” Vogle announced, bounding up to them. 

Gripps nodded. “And hopefully we can quit feeling like third, fourth and fifth wheels whenever you two are in a room.” He looked at them pointedly. 

Amanda immediately blushed while Martin just chuckled. 

“I ain’t sorry about a thing,” Martin shrugged, pulling Amanda with him to the veranda steps. He looked at her with a smile. “Are you?” 

“Nope.” Amanda lifted her chin defiantly. 

“That’s lucky,” Martin grinned. He opened the front door and squeezed Amanda’s hand as they walked inside, the rowdy teachers following them. Vogle when straight to the back door and had a hand on the latch before Martin shouted, “don’t!” 

Vogle frowned. “Why not?” 

“He’s not to be trusted.” Martin said darkly. 

“Just let him in. With this many people I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Amanda insisted. 

Cross looked at her sideways. “You aren’t scared of him, are you?” 

“Not at all,” Amanda shook her head, “but I have some sensory issues, which sometimes means I have absolutely no pain threshold whatsoever, and Hugo’s claws felt like razors splitting my skin open last time. But it wasn’t his fault.” She glared playfully at Martin. 

Hugo whined at the back door. 

Martin sighed. “You boys keep that dopey dog away from her until he calms down, alright?” 

“I’ll wait on the couch,” Amanda made the short trip and hastily took off her shoes to curl up comfortably. “Release the hounds!” 

Vogle threw open the back door. With scrabbling claws and excited panting Hugo bolted inside, his tail slapping everyone’s legs as he got a hundred pats from doting humans. Amanda watched from the couch and laughed when she caught Martin glaring at the dog. 

The others pulled in chairs from the back veranda and joined Amanda in the living room, Gripps plugging his phone into the speaker for some music. Hugo was moving from human to human for more pats, making sure to lick everyone as he went. Martin claimed space right beside Amanda on the couch; glancing at him briefly Amanda leaned into his side. 

“Why’d you end up letting Todd back on the show?” Vogle asked quickly, his face scrunched up in confusion. “It worked out, but he’s a jerk. Like, Colossal King Jerk.” 

“Definitely a jerk,” Amanda agreed, “but he’s a really good music teacher and the kids needed him. I needed his help. Plus I’m about ninety per cent sure he’s going to gambling addict meetings. If he’s serious about dealing with it then he deserves some support. Just a bit, though.” Amanda insisted. “He screws up again and Martin’s gonna hold him down while I kick his ass.” 

Martin smiled. “I thought you didn’t need my help to fight him?” 

“I don’t, but it’ll be easier if he can’t fight back.” 

“Can we help?” Vogle asked. His eyes were bright. 

“Hell yes.” Amanda smiled before being distracted by Hugo begging for pats. “I think Hugo is the happiest dog I’ve ever seen.” Hugo’s tail, and basically his whole back half, was in a constant state of wriggle. 

“He’s sweet but kinda dumb,” Gripps laughed, “didn’t he break his own tail once by sitting on it?” 

Martin sighed. “Yes, he did.” Knowing his human dad was talking about him, Hugo ran up to Martin and nuzzled the man’s knees. With another sigh, Martin scratched behind Hugo’s torn ears. 

“It’s a good thing he’s pretty.” Amanda reasoned. Hugo grinned before running to the front door, barking. Someone knocked a moment later. 

“Hugo, down.” Martin ordered, getting off the couch to restrain the frivolous dog. Opening the door he smiled. “Farah, come on in.” 

With a wide and slightly awkward smile Farah stepped inside. “Thanks. Martin, this is Lydia, my wife. Lydia, this is Martin, manual arts HOD.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Lydia said politely, trying not to stare. The teacher looked more like a semi-retired punk musician in torn jeans and leather jacket. Upon seeing Hugo held at Martin’s side, slobbering and ecstatic, Lydia melted totally. “Who is _this_ handsome creature?” She handed the box she was carrying to her wife to better cuddle the dog. 

“This is Hugo. Pretty but dim. What’s that?” Martin looked at the box in Farah’s arms. 

“Lydia stress-bakes. She’s been stressed on my behalf and now we’re keeping the local dentist in business.” Farah shrugged. 

Martin smiled slightly. “Great. Everyone’s through there, go on in.” He gestured down the hall and was about to follow them before he caught sight of another car pulling up. Watching a string bean of a man climb out, accompanied by a shorter grouching lump, Martin frowned. 

“Martin, hi!” Dirk waved. 

“Hi.” Martin barely looked at Dirk before fixing his icy glare on Todd. Hugo growled and Martin kept a tight hold of the dog’s collar in his hand. 

“Thanks for having us,” Todd said timidly. He carried a case of beer and lifted it suggestively. “Consider this a thank you?” 

“Thanks for not kickin’ your ass? Sure.” Martin flashed a sarcastic smile. “Amanda told me everythin’.” 

Todd gulped. 

“I s’pose you’d better come in.” Martin said. He pulled Hugo with him and headed for the living room. It was already crowded and with a bouncy dog and two more awkward people it was filled to capacity. Todd left the beer in the middle and everyone helped themselves to drinks and cake. 

After a while pizzas were ordered and laid out across the kitchen table and bench tops. Amanda cornered Martin in the hall while everyone else jostled for space and slices in the kitchen. 

“How much do I owe you for the pizza?” Amanda asked, leaning into him and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Complicated barter territory,” Martin reminded her, “honestly I don’t even know where we’re up to with that.” 

“I’ll get breakfast?” 

“Deal.” Martin put his hands on Amanda’s waist to bring her closer. 

Amanda smiled and raised herself up on her toes to kiss him for a few delightful seconds before they were interrupted. 

“There’s not much pepperoni – oh, uh, sorry.” Todd backed away. 

Amanda pulled away from Martin slightly and rolled her eyes. “Thanks Todd.” 

“Can I talk to you for a second? Please, Amanda?” Todd asked quietly. He glanced hesitantly at Martin. 

Looking at her brother for a long moment, Amanda sighed. “Fine.” She turned her attention back to Martin. “Save me a slice of pepperoni? It’s my favourite.” 

“I know.” Martin smiled before letting Amanda go and heading to the kitchen. 

Amanda sighed briefly before looking at Todd. “What do you want?” 

For a second, Todd just stared. “So, you and Martin, huh?” 

“You and Dirk, huh?” Amanda shot back. 

Todd’s cheeks went pink. 

“What do you want, Todd?” 

“I want to apologise.” 

Amanda shrugged. “Ok.” 

“I mean it, Amanda. I’m so sorry for what I did. I really am going to meetings.” 

“Ok.” 

Todd looked at her helplessly while trying to find something to say. 

“What do you want from me, Todd? I’m glad you’re going to meetings. I’m glad you’re sorry, but I’m still pissed about it. You did a supremely shitty thing and I’m going to be mad about it for a while. Ok?” 

Nodding, Todd sighed. “I know. I’ll do whatever it takes.” 

“What it’s going to take, is time. Just let it go for a while.” 

Dirk stuck his head out of the kitchen and smiled brightly. “Can I interest anyone in a drink? Martin’s pouring expert beverages in here. I believe some sort of tea was mentioned though I have yet to see a single tea pot in this house.” 

“A Long Island iced tea?” Amanda grinned. “Sign me up.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Todd asked with a smile. 

“It’s not like I have to worry about driving anywhere tonight.” Amanda replied. She deliberately ignored Todd’s faintly horrified expression as she went into the kitchen. 

Martin had a row of glasses and a few bottles of alcohol on the last bit of clear bench space. “You want one?” 

“Definitely.” Amanda grinned and leaned on the bench next to him. “How can I trust your skills, though? Every man and his dog thinks he can make a Long Island.” She glanced down at Hugo dancing through the kitchen and smiled. 

“I worked in bars for a while. I got this.” 

Amanda couldn’t help but give him a warm look as he poured. She picked up a glass as soon as Martin deemed it ready and took a long sip. “Delicious.” 

“Told you.” Martin said smugly. He bit into a slice of pizza just in time for Hugo to sit right in front of him and whine hopefully. “Pizza’s not for you. I gotta feed him, I’ll be right back.” 

Amanda watched him go with a smile, her smile turning into one of mild self-consciousness when Farah came to lean beside her. 

“I owe your brother a serious debt.” Farah said with a smile. She looked over to see Todd and Dirk were chatting with Lydia, warm smiles and laughter abounding. 

“I guess we all do.” Amanda said grudgingly. “Did you seriously hire Dirk? Is he really a private detective?” 

Farah laughed. “Yeah. I was getting desperate and none of the official channels could do anything. He really came through. How much did you know about Wilson’s situation?” 

“It’s kind of a blur. My contract’s been renewed for next term and Dirk and Todd are going to give everything they have to the department.” 

“What do they have?” 

“A lot of her being racist, and apparently some fraud.” Amanda sipped her drink. “Definitely enough to get her fired.” 

Farah nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sorry for everything you had to go through to get to this point, but,” she smiled, still a little stunned, “I’m so glad it wasn’t for nothing.” 

“Definitely not for nothing.” Amanda glanced at Martin in the living room, smiling to see him roughhousing with Hugo and the other manual arts teachers cheering them on. 

“I still don’t know about office relationships, but with Wilson out of the picture you guys might stand a chance.” 

Amanda felt her cheeks get warm. “That means they will too, right?” She looked over at Todd, catching him reaching up to wipe pizza crumbs from Dirk’s cheek. 

Farah gaped a little. “Uh, yeah. It certainly makes dinner parties efficient.” 

“Honey,” Lydia began, approaching them with Dirk and Todd following, “Dirk’s invited us over for dinner next weekend. He has a cat.” 

“She’s a nightmare.” Todd said quickly. 

Dirk was wounded. “She’s just misunderstood.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Todd rolled his eyes, “she misunderstands pats and thinks human hands are food.” He held a hand up to reveal a few red scratches across his skin. His other hand was busy holding Dirk’s. 

Lydia tugged on Farah’s jacket lapel playfully. “What do you say, babe?” 

“Sure,” Farah nodded, “dinner.” 

“You’ll come too, won’t you Amanda?” Dirk asked brightly. 

Amanda looked at Todd’s hopeful face. She sought a polite answer and was happily interrupted by Martin joining them. He put an arm around her waist and she smiled up at him. 

“Both of you should come, obviously,” Dirk amended with a smile. He looked over Martin’s shoulder at the other manual arts teachers. With slight faltering, Dirk kept the smile on his face. “And your esteemed colleagues are welcome. Of course.” 

Amanda laughed and poked Martin in the ribs. “I told you, musicals bring people together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take this opportunity to thank my delightful friend Nikia for always being an excellent and patient brain to bounce things off, as well as Natalie who so kindly beta-d this exceedingly over-the-word-limit beast! Also big thanks to all the mods for organising this whole event.


End file.
